


Pride, Prejudice, and Ninjas

by andrhars



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Disaster!Sheik, Link is a good Hero, M/M, Sheik is a bad ninja, Sheik is embarrassed anger incarnate, Yiga!Sheik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 08:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20386810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrhars/pseuds/andrhars
Summary: Sheik is the best the Yiga have to offer, so it's only natural that he is sent to eliminate the newly awakened Hero of Hyrule, and stop him from ruining Lord Ganon's plans!He just wishes the Hero wasn't so hard to catch off-guard!





	1. On Precipitation

_This mission sucks, _Sheik thought, lying on his stomach in the middle of a thorny bush, the soil underneath muddy from the stupidly frequent rainfalls that seemed to plague this region—the direct opposite of the dry desert he had grown up in.

He thought he'd been clever, choosing this hiding spot, on account of its proximity to his target's camp, giving him a perfect view, but by the time he realised he'd very likely chosen the prickliest damn bush in Hyrule to hide in, it was too late and his target had made himself comfortably in his camp—directly facing Sheik's hiding place. And then the rain had intensified from a slow drip to a full-on deluge.

Thanks to the many barbs that had hooked themselves into his suit, moving was not an option—it'd make enough of a racket to raise the dead, and likely cause the bush itself move. In the dark, he might get away with it...that is, if his target weren't observant to the point Sheik suspected the damned Hylian _would_ find the proverbial needle in the haystack within minutes.

He'd certainly not fail to notice Sheik's clumsy attempt to escape a stupid situation by his own creation.

In other words, he was in it for the long haul tonight. He'd have to wait until the Hylian went to sleep (if he ever did) and make his escape then.

Attacking at that time was an effort in futility—the Hylian was probably the lightest sleeper Sheik had ever seen, including himself. Sheik had the excuse of growing up in a clan of assassins and thieves, where sleeping lightly was a matter of survival. Presumably, the Hylian had his own reasons.

_This mission _really_ sucks_, he thought, watching the hooded Hylian preparing a campfire, safely hunkered under a rocky outcropping that directed the falling rain away from his shelter. The frying pan was retrieved from its place in the saddlebag, and soon Sheik could hear, even over the loudness of the rain, the sound of sizzling meat. Could smell the cooking food, even.

_I fucking hate Akkala_, he thought, slowly and deliberately fishing out a paper-wrapped hard biscuit, which was all had left in terms of rations, lowering his cloth mask and biting into the biscuit with the enthusiasm of a man facing the executioner's axe. A man would feel full after a single bite, if only so he wouldn't have to take another.

_I fucking hate rain_, he thought as the sky above him exploded with thunder and lightning, and the rainfall intensified even further, turning the soil beneath him into even more mud, which began to slither into his clothes and pour into his boots.

He channelled his hatred into the object of his scrutiny, for the hooded and cloaked Hylian currently enjoying his supper seemingly without a care in the world—it was hard to tell, the hood hid most of his face save for the lower part of his chin—while Sheik languished under this prick of a bush. How he longed to run the Hylian through, to smash his head against the rocks, to choke the life out of him...

If he ever got the chance, that is. He'd been following and observing his target for two weeks now and had yet to find an opening to engage. The Hylian was simply too cautious, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings at all times. Which made sense, on account of...well, who the Hylian was, really. And what had happened up until now. It was why Sheik had been sent in the first place.

Or _part_ of why he'd been sent, at least.

* * *

_"I have a special assignment for you," Kohga said, staring down at the kneeling Sheik. "A test to prove your worth to the clan."_

_Sheik grinned beneath his porcelain mask, newly painted with the clan symbol—a reversed Sheikah eye, to mark their opposition to the other clan that had degraded themselves in submission to the Hylians—feeling excitement rushing through his veins already. Finally, his chance had come!_

_"What is the test, master?" he asked, listening to Kohga's footsteps as the large man paced back and forth in front of him, the wood beneath Kohga's feet creaking in protest. "Do you want me to steal something from the Gerudo? Assassinate their chief? Sabotage their water supply? Burn the bazaar?"_

_Kohga paused. Sheik kept his head bowed, gaze on the floor. The clan leader sighed._

_"No, I have other people assigned to those tasks," Kohga said. "Some time ago I communed with Lord Ganon, and he informed me of a newly awakened threat, one we have been asked to dispatch with the utmost urgency."_

_Sheik nearly choked on his own spit. A mission from Lord Ganon himself?! For Sheik?!_

_Finally! Finally, his skills were being recognised! Years of training and struggling, of desperately making himself seen and heard, of proving that he was the future of the clan, coming to fruition at last!_

_"T-Truly?" he asked, unable to stop himself from looking up at his master. "From Lord G-Ganon?"_

_Kohga nodded, his mask hiding any expression. In all these years, Sheik had never actually seen his master's face. It had always been so—no one ever saw Kohga's true visage. No one really knew why he chose to hide it like this._

_"Indeed," Kohga said, his voice amused. "There have been...others who I believed were up to the task, but they have failed. I know you won't, my little firebrand. I know you will not rest until the deed is done."_

_"I won't, master!" Sheik exclaimed, grinning widely behind his mask, certain that he was positively vibrating with anticipation now. "Please, what is my task?!"_

_"You are to slay the Hero of Hyrule, the Hylian Champion, who goes by the name of Link," Kohga announced._

_Sheik blinked. "I thought he was dead; Slain by Ganon a century ago?"_

_The questions came flooding out of his mouth before he could even think to stop them. All the stories had said the Hylian Champion had been killed along with the rest, unable to stand up to the might of Lord Ganon, who could only be matched in strength by Princess Zelda—cursed be her name—who was blessed by the Goddess herself._

_"As did we," Kohga said, nodding. "But it appears our beloved cousins had a trick up their sleeve: The Shrine of Resurrection. The Hero of Hyrule was placed in it, and he has recently awakened. He must be stopped!"_

_Sheik clenched his jaw, a rush of anger filling him at the sound of the Sheikah and their tricks! Damn them! He rallied his feelings, however, and focused them all on the rush of words that came to his lips._

_"I won't fail you, master! Or Lord Ganon! I will slay him and bring you his head!" Sheik announced, clenching his fists to stop himself from miming how he would strike the Hero's head from his shoulders with one clean stroke! Theatrics could wait!_

_Kohga made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort, but Sheik hardly noticed. He was already thinking up scenarios in his head, of how he would ambush and finish off the Champion before the fool even realised what was happening. He imagined his triumphant return to the clan hideout, of how the others would acknowledge his superiority, at last!_

_"I know you won't, Sheik," Kohga said, his voice trembling with what Sheik knew was pride, taking him by the arm and bringing him to his feet. "Reyla will fill you in on the details and prepare your equipment. Go see her immediately—you set out at dawn."_

_Still grinning like a fox in a cuccoo coop, Sheik did as he was told, letting himself be carried along the stone caverns by the sounds of Kohga's excited wheezing._

* * *

He'd been so excited, setting out from the cavern hideout and heading north-east, out of the desert. He'd kept close to the mountains, both for the shade they offered and the cover, so as to stay out of sight of Gerudo patrols. Hidden water caches along the way kept him sustained until he finally reached the hidden trail that led him into Hyrule proper, and...into his first obstacle.

How the fuck was he supposed to find the Hero of Hyrule?

Intelligence on the bastard was lacking, and the last anyone had seen of him (that had reached the hideout, anyway) was that he was heading north-east, towards the Zora's Domain. Operatives he'd met along the way had confirmed much the same, and the one thing they'd all told him before he'd kept going was:

"Don't underestimate him."

As if Sheik would make such an elementary mistake! He'd almost berated the operatives he'd met for doing so but figured the various injuries they'd sported would serve as lessons instead. The one useful piece of information they had offered other than the Hero's general direction was that he had quickly learned to see through their disguises.

Idiots.

They'd given away their most important trick already!

He'd given them a piece of his mind regarding _that_, and afterwards they had been very eager to send him on his way to face the Hero in their stead. Obviously, they believed him far more capable!

The meetings left him with one impression, however:

The Hero was clearly a devious combatant, choosing only to injure and cripple his opponents rather than kill them. Or perhaps he was just too soft-hearted to finish the job properly. It wouldn't surprise Sheik if he were—how else could the Goddess' Chosen have failed a century ago, otherwise?

Yeah, this was going to be a snap.

The others' mistake was that they went for the Hero immediately upon spotting him, instead of waiting and observing, searching for the perfect moment to strike. Everyone had weaknesses, and Sheik would find the Hero's. And then make him pay dearly for what he'd done.

* * *

It was all going so well until he reached the Domain and its perpetual rainfall, courtesy of Vah Ruta.

Stupid machine.

Rain was a rare thing to see in the desert, and rarer still was the sort that left every surface slick and impossible to climb as it did in the Domain. He couldn't follow the roads (such as they were) on account of the Zora patrols, and roughing it across the hills and crags offered its own fun sets of obstacles, including the aforementioned slick surfaces that threatened to send him careening down the cliffs and (if he were lucky) into the river below, as well as his own damned supposed allies.

The feral bokoblins and lizalfos that dotted the mountainside was an idiotic bunch, and their alliance with the Yiga was a symbolic one at best, as they seemed to have compunction with attacking Sheik upon spotting him, forcing him to run away like a coward (because only idiots try to face down a numerically superior enemy on uncertain ground).

He'd learned on the third encounter with Lord Ganon's minions, which had ended with him climbing a tree and cursing under his breath as the creatures ran past below, that he was, essentially, on his own in this.

Just as well.

Sharing the glory with their sort was the last thing he wanted anyway.

They fared no better in stopping the Hero, either, if the various skirmish spots Sheik found along the way was any indication. Injured and dead creatures littered the ground, parts of which was pockmarked with what looked like craters caused by explosions. So, the rumours about the Sheikah Slate appeared to be true, at least. Yet another thing Sheik to be careful of, when he found the Hero.

Kohga had requested that Sheik bring the artefact back if (that is, _when_) he succeeded in slaying the Hero. He would attempt to do so, but Sheik wasn't above destroying the thing if it meant taking away some of the Hero's combat effectiveness.

Because Sheik wasn't an idiot.

He was, however, too slow to catch the Hero before he entered the Zora's city proper, and by then it was too late to ambush him. Sneaking into the city was tantamount to suicide, even with the disguise technique, and so he was forced to make camp on Mount Ploymus, overlooking the city but too far away to do anything.

He _thought_ he'd get his chance when he spotted a cloaked shape that looked about the right size for a Hylian making its way up the mountain, seemingly aiming for the summit.

What business the Hero could have up there was unknown to Sheik, but he wasn't going to waste his chance.

He braved the slippery, perilous cliffs of Ploymus and aimed to reach the summit _before_ the Hero, planning to lie in wait and ambush him there. Surely the last place the Hero would expect a Yiga would be at the top of a fucking mountain?

He was certain It'd have worked, too, if it hadn't been for the lynel.

None of the other Yiga had seen fit to inform him of _that_ grouchy son of a bitch.

Ostensibly another ally, Sheik had _tried_ to communicate with the thing upon spotting it, hoping to borrow some of the lightning arrows that littered its territory, more than aware of how useful they'd be in this weather. He'd even pulled one out of a nearby tree trunk, doing his best to sign that he wished to borrow it.

The first arrow had missed his shoulder by a mere inch, and the next thing he knew, Sheik was running for his life with the thundering hooves of the lynel pounding in his ears, growing louder and louder, sparking arrows flying past his head. There'd been no cover, and by the time Sheik realised he was being herded towards the cliff edge, there was really nowhere else to go.

Of course, he'd _known_ there was a pond right beneath the cliff, just deep enough to allow him to survive the fal—er, _graceful dive_ into it. He could have done without smacking his hip into the rocky bottom of the pond, but what was a little pain considering he'd just walked triumphantly away from a fight with a lynel.

(In his mind, surviving a lynel encounter was a victory in itself).

By the time he'd managed to crawl out of the pond and make his way back to the summit, however, it was all over. He'd heard the thumps of explosions on his way back up, but as he crested the edge, all he found was a dead lynel (an easy target for the Hero now that Sheik had left it exhausted from the chase), no thunder arrows...and a cloaked shape floating through the air on a paraglider, heading back towards the Zora's city.

Sheik had missed his chance.

All because of the stupid horse cat!

Even worse, he'd lost a great deal of his supplies in the fall. He'd seen the last of his bananas go tumbling further down the mountainside, never to be seen again...or picked up by a damned bokoblin, which would just gobble the fucking thing down and fail to appreciate it.

Returning to his camp, he found that the rain had managed to carve its way into the little alcove beneath which he'd pitched his tent, thoroughly soaking the fabric and the rest of his stuff. Tired and soaked to the bone, he could only watch as a battle erupted around the stationary Vah Ruta, bolts of electricity flying through the air. He couldn't see details from this distance, but he could have sworn he saw someone flying through the air, firing little bolts of lightning at the great machine, eventually overcoming its defences and shutting it down.

This was _not_ how Sheik had imagined this would go. He could only hope the guardian Ganon had left within the Beast would be sufficient to stop the Hero. His hopes were dashed when the creature lit up with brilliant blue lights, and the never-ending stream of water issuing from its trunk finally ceased, putting an end to the rain that had made Sheik's journey so miserable.

_Couldn't have done that a little sooner, Hero?_ he thought bitterly as his tent collapsed around him because of the weight of the water.

_I hate this place!_


	2. On Swamps and Endemic Lifeforms

It took the Hero a _week_ to leave the Domain, and by then Sheik's rations were in a sorry state. Ganon's minions had left the Domain in droves upon Vah Ruta's retaking, but that only meant they were replaced by Zora soldiers who tried to root out any stragglers. Scavenging was even more difficult with these bastards out in force, since they investigated _everything_ instead of losing interest in a matter of minutes.

There were few travellers on the roads leading in and out of the Domain so far—it'd take time for trade between the villages to pick up again, which meant Sheik had very few targets of opportunity. The one time he managed to spot a travelling merchant sneak up on them before they reached the safety of Zora patrol routes ended in disappointment.

He'd snuck up on the man from behind, hidden by the merchant's own gigantic backpack, carefully putting the sharp edge of his sword against his throat, and said, "Hand over all your food, right now."

The Hylian man shakily gave him the half-eaten apple in his hand.

"Your _other_ food," Sheik spat.

"That's all I have!" the merchant had said. "I was going to resupply at the Domain!"

"Your merchandise, then! Hand it over!"

The man carefully put his massive backpack down on the blessedly dry ground, opening it for Sheik to rummage through. Surely the man had _something_ of value, which Sheik could somehow manage to trade in exchange for food or something...

"Masks?!" he exclaimed, finding nothing but an unnerving assortment of fake faces staring back at him from within the confines of the backpack.

Some were realistic, some abstract, some downright _horrifying_ in their appearance. One in particular, painted purple and vaguely heart-shaped, bristling with spikes and a pair of bulging, yellow eyes, made his stomach lurch with discomfort. And yet, he felt an urge to take it...but that wasn't his goal right now!

"What the fuck?!"

"I'm a mask salesman!" the merchant said, grinning happily, quite unlike the nervous demeanour he'd shown before. "Care to purchase one?"

Sheik stared at him for a long, quiet moment. "What?"

"Not that I am disparaging your own mask, sir!" the salesman exclaimed, shaking his head fervently and gesturing towards Sheik's Yiga mask. "It is quite elegant in its simplicity, but perhaps you would like one that is a little more flamboyant and colourful, maybe for those special occasions, hm?"

Sheik stared at him again. "Do you know what I am?" he asked.

"A potential customer?" the salesman tried.

Sheik felt an urge to kill the man, but knew that killing a traveller on the Domain road would bring even more attention to his presence than a simple robbery. There were plenty of bandits around, after all, but not a lot of killers.

"I am not," Sheik forced out through gritted teeth. "You didn't see me, understand?! You will speak of this encounter to no one!"

"Of course not, sir!" the salesman said, widening his eyes comically. "My services are a hundred percent confidential! I would never _dream_ of telling anyone of your patronage!"

"No, I'm not a patron, I just don't want you tell anyone you saw someone like me on this road! You get me?!"

"Indeed, sir, your interest in my wares shall not be public knowledge!"

"I'm not interested in your fucking...eugh, fine! Shut up and go!"

"Of course, sir! Have a good day sir!"

Despite how heavy the backpack looked, the salesman was gone in a flash, leaving behind only a small note...with a new apple on top.

The note said, "**To celebrate our meeting! I look forward to your future business!"**

Sheik crumpled the note, vaguely contemplating running the man down and killing him, but... He took a bite out of the apple. It was sweet. Not quite on the level as a banana, naturally, but right now he was quite hungry.

It took quite some time to forget the yellow eyes of that one mask. Sheik couldn't help but feel that he'd avoided making a fatal mistake by not taking it.

Just as well, really.

* * *

He'd figured out a better rationing system of his remaining supplies by the time the Hero left the Domain...this time on horseback. He was still in his camp when he left, but the Hero's departure was a hard thing to miss, what with the _massive_ send-off the Zora arranged. That was a good thing, that Sheik hadn't missed it.

Problem was, he was on the _other _side of the Domain, having banked on the Hero leaving the way he'd come, through the south entrance, instead of heading north-east _yet again_, leaving Sheik to scramble and hurriedly pack up his sad little camp and rush down the mountainside, counting his blessings that at least the Hero wasn't travelling at a gallop, preferring a leisurely walk.

It only meant Sheik had to cough up _half_ a lung as he was forced to run around the Domain in an effort not to lose sight of the Hero!

Approaching him was a different matter entirely. The Hero had chosen a route that would take him through a narrow mountain pass and into a region Sheik's map told him was called Akkala. Presumably, he'd then head in a western direction, towards Death Mountain and the Divine Beast that waited there. The pass was high and the cliffs impossible to climb. The only way to approach was from directly behind the Hero, and that was far too risky, especially if the Hero happened to look back just as Sheik tried to approach. There was no way to fall back, either, in case things went south (not very likely, of course, just possible) and he had to retreat.

No, this was not a good place to lay an ambush. Besides, Sheik still had to observe and analyse before he made his move. So he kept a healthy distance from the Hero, just out of sight, following him through the pass and ducking into the woods once they were out of the pass.

Woods being a relative term.

There _were_ trees, but as it turned out Akkala was really more of a swamp than anything else, unlike the Akkala Highlands, which they'd narrowly avoided according to the map. It was impossible to tell if the ground beneath his next step would be solid or not, and Sheik lost count of the times he nearly lost a boot to the treacherous bog.

The less said about the incident that cost him his Yiga mask, the better. The swamp had just swallowed it up, leaving him floundering in the disgusting water, looking for it and coming up short.

At least there was more foliage and other things to take cover behind in this environment, and that allowed Sheik to get closer to the Hero, observing him.

Even that was a challenge, however, since the Hero seemed to have some sort of natural ability to detect when he was being watched, his head immediately beginning to swivel around, scanning the environment around him, trying to find the observer. That was when Sheik realised that actually sneaking up on the man as he travelled along the road was going to be impossible.

So he decided to wait until the Hero set up camp and went to sleep for the night.

After all, he had to sleep sometime, right?

The first night he watched the Hero sleep, Sheik realised two things:

One: The Hero was a ridiculously selective light sleeper. Howling wind courtesy of the trees of the swamp? He could sleep through that no problem. The branch Sheik stepped on? The Hero was instantly awake, hand on his sword and ready to fight.

Sheik had barely heard the snap of the branch himself!

Two: Sheik really hated swamps.

They were hot and humid in the day, making him absolutely miserable and sweaty in his suit, and freezing and humid in the night. The temperature, he could handle, but that fucking humidity... Combined with the cold he was reduced to a shivering mess when the sun went down.

On the third night, he was seriously starting to worry about hypothermia, as his chattering teeth woke up the slumbering Hero about three hundred feet away.

This wonderful cycle lasted for about a week, until they finally reached the edge of the swamp and found solid ground again. The Hero began climbing the hills, and Sheik followed, really wishing he'd had the forethought to steal a horse at some point. There was supposed to be a stable somewhere in Akkala, but the Hero seemed to deliberately choose the roads less travelled, lessening the chance of encountering people.

Probably because of the other Yiga who'd tried to ambush him along the roads before.

Fucking idiots.

Even though he'd finally found solid ground again, it didn't mean the Hero was any easier to sneak up on. It just meant Sheik had more obstacles to potentially step on and making noise with. At one point, he really just considered throwing caution to the wind and charge at the Hero from behind, but he didn't have much of a chance to do so as a whole mob of bokoblins emerged from the tall grass on either side of the road, charging at the mounted Hero.

What Sheik saw next really made him re-evaluate his plan of mindlessly attacking the Hylian Champion.

Of the seven bokoblin that attacked the Hero, only one limped away alive. The rest were either blown up glowing bombs appearing out nowhere in the Hero's hands, skewered on the Hero's sword, or trampled by the Hero's horse, which was of course as fierce a warrior as its rider.

The fight lasted a mere five minutes, and even then Sheik had a feeling the Hero let the last bokoblin live on purpose, watching as it limped away with an arrow drawn, aimed squarely at its back. The Hero drew a breath...and released it, lowering his bow and easing off the string. He replaced his gear in the saddlebags and re-sheathed his sword, continuing on his way and leaving only carnage behind.

The sight of it left Sheik breathless, caught up in the graceful movements and sheer spectacle of the Champion's skills. Okay, maybe there _was_ a reason why Lord Ganon wanted this threat taken care of as soon as possible. Vah Ruta might have been a fluke, he'd thought before, but not now.

No, this was definitely not a situation Sheik could afford to rush into without thoroughly planning his assault. Not that he'd have any trouble taking the Hero in a straight-up fight, of course! Not at all! He just wanted to make sure that there wouldn't be any unpleasant surprises! The Sheikah Slate, for example, would have to be taken out of the equation.

And so he'd continued to follow and observe the Hero, leading him to his current situation.

* * *

Sheik hissed under his breath as another thorn easily pierced his suit and dug into his flesh beneath. He was going to look like a damned pincushion by the end of the night. It didn't help that that Hero was taking his sweet fucking time preparing his supper, either, the smell of which was now wafting its way into Sheik's sensitive nose, even through the rain.

Why couldn't the bastard just eat and go to sleep already?!

He firmly ignored the way his stomach growled at the smell of cooking meat that kept rudely butting its way to his olfactory senses. As if Hylians knew how to cook anyway—it'd probably be like poison, anyway!

He took another bite of his biscuit, wincing as his teeth failed to break off a piece at the first attempt. They tasted of nothing and had the texture of gravel, but it certainly made him feel full.

It's hard to feel hungry when you feel like you've just eaten about half a brick.

At this point it had become less about observing his target and more about keeping his mind busy until the Hero was done and had gone into one of his hyper-vigilant sleep cycles, if only so Sheik could get out of the fucking bush and make camp somewhere dry. The tent would be a complete loss at this point, but it would still be better than to lie here and slowly drown in the mud.

Scenarios where he killed the Hero were only entertaining for so long, and they were soon bumped aside by food fantasies. What he wouldn't do for a banana right now...

Golden, succulent, firm bananas...

For a while, he must have disappeared completely into his fantasy, because the rain had intensified by the time he returned from it...and the back of his right hand was itchy.

He reached over with his left and scratched it absent-mindedly, wondering if the Hero would just _finish_ already and...and...

There was something on his hand. Something hard and slightly squishy.

He looked down and found just about the worst thing he'd ever seen making its merry way up his hand. It was long, segmented, and had way too many legs. The scorpions in the desert had nothing on this absolute abomination, whose feelers had found the sleeve of his suit and was starting to curiously poke its way inside.

Sheik stared at his nightmares incarnate trying to find a way inside his suit for a full five seconds, as his brain struggled to come up with an appropriate plan of action, before finally doing something.

It wasn't as much a reflex as it was a full-body reaction, which started with his legs immediately finding purchase and _launching_ him out of the bush.

Or, rather, _through_ the bush. With all its thorns and prickly little features. Sheik barely felt any of it, his mind completely focused on the horrible creature, with its horrible little legs and its horrible little feelers, which stubbornly kept trying to seek refuge inside his clothes.

Sheik couldn't help it, couldn't contain it.

He _screamed_.

If that didn't alert the Hero to his presence, the subsequent flailing certainly did. Sheik was only vaguely aware that he'd managed to detach the harbinger of doom from his hand and fling it somewhere—his more immediate concern was the fallen log he'd tripped over, and the rapidly approaching ground and the neat little cluster of small, sharp rocks that would helpfully split his skull wide open.

After what he'd just seen, it honestly wasn't that bad of an end. It'd be quick, and he wouldn't have to endure living with the knowledge that the avatar of pure evil lived in Akkala.

His descent was quickly stopped, however, as his face hit something soft and yet firm at the same time, and something equally soft-firm wrapped themselves around him, steadying him before his skull-splitting could happen.

"Are you okay?"

No.

No no no.

Absolutely not.

This could _not_ be happening!

He drew back and found the hooded form of the Hero of Hyrule—there was no mistaking that tunic—looking at him, his mouth turned down in a frown. His hands were locked around Sheik's biceps, holding him in place.

"I...er...fine. I'm fine!" Sheik forced out, shivering as the adrenaline from his run-in with the void spawn was rapidly filtered out of his system, the cold seeping into his very bones at this point. Wait, wasn't he supposed to do something right now? Kill someone?

The Hero's frown grew deeper as he scanned Sheik's wet, muddy, bedraggled form.

"Hmph," he grunted and began to drag Sheik back the way he'd came, towards his campfire.

"Hey, what're you doi—"

"You're soaked; you'll get hypothermia. Need to get warm."

A little voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to resist, to fight, to stab the bastard right through the neck with one of his daggers or cut his head off with his sword...but the biggest part of Sheik's mind had heard the word "warm", and the light and promised heat of the fire was overruling every other desire at the moment.

And that was how he found himself unceremoniously shoved onto the fallen log that served as the Hero's seat in front of the fire. A wooden bowl of something hot that smelled of cooked meat and spices appeared in his hand while his soaked pack was wrenched off his shoulder.

"Eat," the Hero said. "It'll help."

Sheik wanted to bite the fucker's hand off—no one told him what to do other than Master Kohga!—but his body betrayed him by pulling down his cloth mask and taking a piece of meat out of the bowl with his bare hand, shoving it into his mouth like he was starving. An explosion of flavour danced across his tongue, and he didn't even bother suppressing the moan that erupted from his throat.

He wished he had, though, when he caught the Hero's lips turning upward at the sound. Sheik huffed and turned away—fucker had even gotten a look at his face now.

But that was not the priority here, his stomach decided, giving off a monstrous roar and demanding to be filled. And frankly, his mouth and brain weren't any better, and Sheik busied himself with shovelling the delicious dish into himself, barely taking the time to taste it at all. All he managed to catch along the way was the cuccoo meat, fried vegetables, and some sort of spice he faintly remembered the Gerudo made.

_I'll kill him when I'm finished_, he thought. Wasting food was a great sin in the desert, and he wasn't about to commit it. It only occurred to him halfway through that the food might be poisoned, but by then he was probably going to die already, so he kept eating until the bowl was empty.

"Good?"

He turned his head to stare at the Hero, who was looking at him expectantly (or so he assumed, on account of still not being able to see all of the Hero's face thanks to the hood).

"It was okay," Sheik replied. Like he was going to offer his greatest enemy any compliments.

...speaking of enemies, why the hell was the Hero helping him? That is, if the food wasn't poisoned.

"Why are you helping me?" he found himself asking.

The Hero's mouth frowned again, his finger tapping his thigh rhythmically as he considered the question. It felt like it took an eternity before he finally said, "Because you needed it."

"Like hell I did!" Sheik snapped. He still had his sword on his back. If he could reach it...

"Didn't expect to see a Sheikah out here," the Hero continued. "Not yet, anyway. You a scout?"

His voice wasn't particularly deep, which made Sheik wonder how old the man was...

...wait, Sheikah?

He looked down, and found that his red suit was now, thanks to the mud and downright awful conditions in Akkala, a hideous brown. Not a single piece of it retained its original colour, the muddy water having filtered into every seam and fibre. No wonder the Hero thought he was a Sheikah—all he saw was the silver hair and red eyes!

_This could work to my advantage,_ he thought.

"Y-Yeah, that's right," he said, nodding and pulling his mask up. "Scout. That's me. Out searching for enemies!"

"Alone?"

The Hero's voice sounded worried. What did he care? Sheik had been scouting alone in the desert since he was fourteen—this was the same thing, only a long way from home.

"Yeah?" he replied, shrugging. "What's the—huh...huh..." Or tried to shrug. It turned into a shiver instead, and his nose began to tingle.

_Oh no._

_Please don't._

He was too late to turn away and pull down his mask before the sneeze came. He tried to muffle it, but the mask was in the way and the sound he made could only be compared to the bleat of a camel. And it didn't stop with one, no, there were no less than three more sneezes in succession, punctuated with a groan.

"S-Sorry about that," Sheik said with a wheeze, turning back only to find the Hero standing above him again, looking down with the deepest frown yet. "What?"

"Take your clothes off."

His face turned scalding hot immediately, and he was glad that the cloth mask (despite how disgusting it was on the inside right now) hid how red his cheeks must have turned.

"What?!" he asked, his voice hitting an embarrassingly high pitch. "What the fuck?!"

The Hero sighed impatiently, gesturing to Sheik's suit. "Your clothes are soaked—you'll freeze. Come on, take them off."

"I think not!" Sheik shrieked, standing up (and ignoring how wobbly his legs felt), glaring at the darkness that concealed the Hero's eyes. "I don't know what you're up to, mister, but I am _not_ getting undressed! Forget it!"

Typical his luck, really, that he ended up with an assassination target who was also a pervert!

"Do you _want_ to freeze to death?" the Hero asked, still patient, maybe even a little amused.

_I could run him through,_ Sheik thought. _I could do it right now. His sword is over there by his horse, he wouldn't have time to reach it by the time I've drawn mine. I could kill him right now._

Before he could do so, however, the Hero gave another impatient sigh and reached up the clasp of his hooded cloak, undoing it and throwing it off, smoothly turning it around and fastening it around Sheik's shoulders instead. The fabric was thick and heavy, and so delightfully warm right away. Sheik barely noticed that, though, on account of suddenly coming face to face with...well, the Hero's face.

And what a lovely face it was. Young, probably around Sheik's own age, and with the biggest, bluest eyes he had ever seen (the _only_ blue eyes he'd ever seen), which practically sparkled in the reflected firelight. Wait, they _were_ sparkling. With _mirth_!

He was _laughing_ at Sheik!

Well, chuckling, which was pretty much the same.

The Hero was grinning now, adjusting the clasp. "Are all Sheikah this stubborn?" he asked. "There, now sit down and get warm."

Not that Sheik had much of a choice, as the Hero pushed him down to sit on the log again, taking a seat of his afterwards next to him, holding his hands out to the fire and giving a small hum of satisfaction.

"I'm Link," he said without much fanfare. "And that's Maladict," he added, pointing at his horse, which snorted with suspiciously good timing. It even nodded its head, its eyes shining eerily in the dark as they watched Sheik closely. There was intelligence in those eyes. Malevolence, even, which was hard to pull off when there was a feeding bag on its face. "And you?"

Sheik blinked, realising several seconds had passed without him replying. "Er...Sheik. My name is Sheik."

Link's stupid face lit up with another smile. "Sheik the Shei—"

"Don't," Sheik cut him off with a glare, half his vision blocked off by a soaking wet fringe, which he angrily shoved out of his face. His damned hair had come loose from its braid, on top if it all! "Don't even start."

Link raised his hands defensively. "Sorry," he said, still grinning, clearly not sorry at all.

"Hmph," Sheik harrumphed, focusing on the fire instead, not at all wanting to look at that the Hero's face anymore. It was too distracting. He needed to rethink his plan of attack, anyway. Now that he was sitting down next to him, the Hero was within reach of his sword again, which meant Sheik's window of opportunity had shrunk considerably. Every movement needed to be perfect, now, unless he wanted to risk getting carved up himself.

What was that distance, anyway? He slowly turned his head, intending to count the number of steps the Hero would have to take to reach his weapon...and paused when he caught Link staring into the fire, that damned smile still gracing his lips. He looked...striking, in that profile, but the smile softened his appearance considerably. Sheik's eyes followed the curves and lines of Link's face, and then traced along the top of his ear, taking note of the small ring that pierced it, to the unruly locks of golden blonde hair held back in a ponytail by a small leather band.

_Handsome,_ Sheik thought. Then he realised _what_ he'd thought and stomped down the line of thinking with all his might. For a Hylian, who were all smelly and ugly! Including this one!

Now, to count the steps—

Too late, Link noticed him staring, and decided to stare right back.

"What?" Sheik growled, as if he hadn't been the one staring to begin with.

"You're different," Link said, cocking his head to the side, much like a curious puppy.

Not cute at all.

"How so," Sheik bit out.

"The other Sheikah I've met so far have all been composed. Dignified. You're not."

Was this a Hylian custom? Invite someone to share your fire and then insult them? Sheik could get behind that, and prepared to fire back with the worst things he could imagine and—

"You don't hold yourself back," Link said. "I like that."

Sheik's stomach gave another lurch, but this one wasn't entirely unpleasant. His stupid face heated up again, though, and that was just not acceptable. He snorted, shaking his head, trying to play it off, like this wasn't the first time anyone had ever said they liked any aspect of him, much less his lack of a verbal filter.

"Not a people person, huh?" Sheik snarked. "Not comfortable with all the little lies and shit everyone keeps spouting off?"

Normally, someone should deny that, right? Insist that the little white lies everyone tells each other every day are necessary to keep the world going? Link, though, simply shook his head and smiled a little wider.

"I'm really not," the Hero said. "I prefer the wilderness. Fewer people."

Sheik didn't have a good answer to that one, but he filed it away under useful information. If he failed tonight, at least he'd know the Hero would prefer to stay away from civilization until he was forced to interact with it. Plenty of windows for attacking, then.

Sinking a little more into his seat, the cloak, the meal, and fire doing an excellent job of warming him up, Sheik decided he'd need a little more intelligence about the Hero before he did the deed.

"So...where're you headed?" he asked. "Not really much to find out here in Akkala."

At least not according to the map he'd been given by another Yiga operative. Frankly, everything east of the Domain had only been filled in with the bare minimum of details, along with several question marks, several of which could now be replaced with "Fucking swamp!".

"The lab," Link replied.

The...lab?

What lab? There was a lab? Where was the lab?

Sheik almost asked these questions out loud until he remembered he was supposed to be a Sheikah and _not_ an assassin sent to kill the Hylian next to him. A Sheikah scout would most definitely not ask those questions.

"Ah, right, the...the lab!" he exclaimed. "Of course—I'd almost forgotten about that, haha."

Link's eyebrows rose a little at the odd phrasing, but nodded along anyway, clearly buying Sheik's act. Which was only natural, on account of him being the best liar!

"I need to see Doctor Robbie—apparently he can be of assistance to me, though I wasn't told exactly in what way. Do you know him?" Link looked at him curiously.

"I...have not had the pleasure," Sheik lied through his teeth. "Truth be told, I don't even know where his lab is."

A little improvisation never hurt anyone, right?

Link's eyes narrowed, and he straightened up a little. "That's odd—I thought Sheikah kept close tabs on each other. Looked out for each other."

_Damn you, improvisation!_

Sheik bristled. As if the Yiga didn't do the same!

"Yeah, well, I don't get along with them, okay?" He stood up angrily, the cloak billowing from the movement. "And maybe you ought to keep your nose out of my business!"

Starting a fight with the Hero was probably not his best strategy at the moment, but it'd break the tension that had suddenly settled over them. But Link didn't react. At least, not in the way Sheik had expected or would have preferred. He wasn't even looking up at Sheik! Instead, his attention was on Sheik's clothes, no longer hidden by the cloak, finally drying and shedding some of the mud...and revealing several spots of red fabric.

A very distinctive red fabric.

Link's head slowly craned upwards until their eyes met, and for a long moment there was only the sound of the crackling fire and pouring rain filling Sheik's ears. Link's jaw moved as it clenched and unclenched.

"You're a Yiga?" he asked.

Something in Sheik snapped, and he ripped the cloak off and drew his sword, giving a battle cry as he brought the blade down where Link had been sitting...and no longer was. The Hero was already on his feet and had closed the distance to his gear, drawing his own sword—an eightfold blade, just like Sheik's.

Sheik cancelled his stroke and moved forward, not wanting to give Link—the Hero, the enemy!—a chance to recover. He aimed a thrust at the Hylian's gut, but he easily sidestepped it, retaliating with a wide sweeping strike that forced Sheik to jump back, out of the protective cover of the overhead stone outcrop and into the fucking rain.

Li—The Hero followed him into the downpour, sword at the ready but taking a defensive stance.

"We don't need to fight," he called out over the rain, his hair and already soaked through.

Sheik laughed. "Oh, but we do!" he shouted, charging at the Hero and lashing out with his sword.

The Hero met his blows head-on, dodging and parrying Sheik's attacks with seemingly no effort, his feet moving perfectly on the muddy, uneven ground, never at once caught off-balance. Sheik, on the other hand, was having trouble keeping up, his feet clumsy on the slippery surface. On sand he had no trouble keeping his footing, but the mud...Akkala really was going to be the death of him.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. Sheik was supposed to catch the Hero unaware and off-guard, finishing him off without a fight. He wasn't supposed to be caught in a melee battle with the Hero in the rain, slowly coming to the realisation that the Hylian was already a master swordsman, and that the scenes of carnage he'd left behind were no flukes.

"I don't want to fight!" the Hero forced out between gritted teeth, pushing Sheik back. "Stop it!"

"Lord Ganon wants you dead, and I intend to deliver!" Sheik hissed, panting. "Now just die already!"

He tried for an overhead strike that would've cleaved the Hero's head in half—had it struck. Instead, the Hero parried the strike to the side and with a vicious twist and other strike, sent the blade flying into the darkness, the handle too soaked for Sheik to keep hold of.

The Hero stepped back, aiming the tip of his blade at Sheik's throat. "Yield," he said.

Instead, Sheik grinned manically and surged forward, tilting his body to the side to avoid the blade and stepping into the Hero's reach. He reached up and grabbed the Hero's wrist with both hands, twisted his body so his back was to him and _heaved_, using his momentum and bodyweight to throw the Hero over his shoulder and into the mud, keeping his hold on Link's wrist.

Link grunted with pain as Sheik twisted his wrist, intending to break it, but before he could the Hero let go of his sword and kicked _up_. His knee collided with Sheik's forehead and snapped his head back.

The world tilted madly as his head exploded with pain, stumbling back and letting go of the Hero's wrist. But...his sword!

Fighting through the pain and the stars dancing in his vision, Sheik growled and ran forward until he felt his shoulder ramming into something soft that gasped, sending them crashing along the muddy road. Sheik had no idea where he was; all he knew was that he couldn't risk Link getting his weapon back!

He'd barely managed to get back on his feet when the Hero's fist struck him on the chin, snapping his head sideways. He retaliated with a kick to Link's sternum, knocking him back. Sheik's mind fell back into his training in the clan's caves. He'd never been the best swordsman, but few could keep up with him in hand-to-hand!

He had no idea if the Hero had ever fought Sheikah or Yiga like this before, but he was out of options and he _had_ to win! He lashed out at Link with the most overwhelming combinations he could think of, never staying still, always aiming a fist, open palm, knee, or foot in the Hero's direction. The Hero almost managed to keep up, too, redirecting most of the hits, though every now and then one slipped through, and Sheik was especially pleased when his boot knocked the breath out of him.

But he underestimated the Hero's ability to adapt...or maybe he fell into old patterns without realising it. The next thing he knew, he aimed a spin kick at Link that would have broken several ribs if done correctly, but instead of hitting Link's side, Sheik's leg was...caught. Next thing he knew, he was flying through the air, landing painfully on his back...and Link was on him right away, fists flying. Several caught Link on the cheeks and chin, but he gave as good as he got, nailing Link right in the nose with a right hook, taking advantage of the brief respite to knee him in the side and knock him off.

No rest, as Link's arms were suddenly under Sheik's, lifting and twisting until he was face-down on the ground, muddy water flicking into his eye from the force of the rain. Link's body was a heavy weight on his back, his knee at his lower back forcing Sheik pelvis to stay still.

"Stop! It!" Link growled.

Sheik answered with a growl of his own, bucking his entire body, trying to put the Hero off-balance and failing miserably. "Fuck you!" he screamed.

"I said. Stop. It." Link hissed, lowering his head to speak directly into Sheik's ear.

Mistake on his part.

Sheik threw his head back, hitting Link's nose and eliciting a howl from the Hylian, who immediately let go, allowing Sheik to buck him off completely.

"My turn!" he shrieked and threw himself at the form of the Hero, miscalculating his trajectory and ending up sending them both sprawling. He tried to straddle the Hero, tried to force him down, but Link answered with an uppercut to his chin and then slamming his forehead into Sheik's, which had the Yiga seeing stars.

Then Sheik was once again on his back, Link's weight holding him down, his wrists pinned to the ground above his head. Link's face glared down at him, inches from his own, his nose bleeding. His eyes practically glowed, the look on his absolutely furious face causing Sheik's stomach to lurch again...and his heart to skip a beat. This wasn't the calm Hylian from before who preferred the wilds to civilisation. This was the warrior from a century ago, forced into a fight he didn't want.

Sheik was done—he didn't have the strength or weight to buck Link off him like this.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the deathblow, whatever shape it may take. He'd brought it on himself, and while his failure made his chest burn with indignation, at least he'd face death like a man, and not flinch!

But the blow never came. He opened his eyes, blinking away the raindrops that fell into them, and found Link in the same position as before, glaring down at him...but hesitating.

Their eyes met, and that burning, indignant heat in Sheik's chest moved down to his stomach, where it settled down into something...soothing?

They were both panting, breaths steaming in the cold. Link was now just as muddy a mess as Sheik, but Sheik could still see his cheeks reddening slightly thanks to his superior night vision.

"Why?" Link asked softly, almost too quietly to be heard.

"I was ordered to," Sheik replied, voice hoarse. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, but not from the fight. Not anymore.

_Fuck, not this!_

"You didn't have to," Link said, lowering his face even closer. "You still don't."

"Yeah," Sheik said. "I do."

He couldn't win this. It was over. And he had no intention of listening to the Hero's words any longer. Mostly because they were starting to sound good. He had one last trick up his sleeve. He couldn't free his hands from Link's grip, but he could bring them together for a gesture...and focus his energy through them.

The Hero noticed the movement too late, eyes widening. "What're you—?!"

Sheik closed his eyes and focused his energy into the technique he'd practiced over and over as a child. He didn't have much control, truly, but it'd be enough. He felt the world tilting on its axis, felt like he was being tugged through an opening far too small for his body. Link's voice disappeared, and there was a loud pop. He crashed into the muddy ground again and opened his eyes to take stock. He was...somewhere in the woods. Not too far from where he'd activated the technique, the range far too low with his energy reserves, but it had taken him out of the Hero's sight and reach, leaving behind only a brilliant, blinding light and a fluttering pile of paper charms bearing the Yiga mark.

He took a moment to breathe in and out, trying to calm his racing heart before it decided to burst out of his chest, before sitting up and taking in his surroundings. Trees on all sides, surprisingly dry ground thanks to the thick foliage overhead, and the thick trunks providing shelter from the wind. If it weren't for his wet suit, Sheik might have found himself comfortable.

_For once the jutsu actually worked to my advantage,_ he thought, remembering all the times it'd failed him during training. He wasn't sure exactly where he was in relation to the Hero's camp, but it couldn't be far. He doubted Li—the Hero would bother looking for him in these conditions, though he'd probably stay on guard until the morning came.

Not that the opposite would've done him much good, on account of Sheik having left both his pack and sword back at the Hero's camp. All he had left on him was a dagger hidden in a pouch strapped to his thigh, which he'd never had the chance to draw.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispered harshly under his breath, sitting up on his knees, pulling at his hair in frustration.

He was supposed to be better than the others, supposed to finish the Hero with barely any effort and return triumphantly...and here he was, stuck in foreign territory with nothing but a knife to his name!

At this rate he was going to die, and Master Kohga and the rest of the clan would never know what had happened to him.

_No, that is unacceptable,_ he thought, growling as he looked around his shelter. The ground was dry, as were the trunks around him, including the branches. Right, the knife wasn't the perfect tool for it, but with enough patience and spite...

Sheik drew his knife and got to work.


	3. On Science and Mechanics

In the end, he'd gotten a small fire going through sheer persistence. Without his flint he'd had to improvise, but luckily wood could only handle so much friction before catching fire. It'd left him with a sore wrist, but it was preferable to freezing to death in a soaking wet suit. His knife had been almost useless for cutting through the thick branches, and the blade dulled considerably during the process. His whetstone was, of course, in his pack, and he could only dread to imagine what the Hero had done with it and its contents.

_Taken them for himself, probably, the bastard,_ he thought, settling himself as close to the fire as he could, opening his suit and rolling the upper part down to expose his bare torso to the heat, still shivering. _Couldn't wait to dig through my stuff and steal whatever he found useful and throw away the rest. Fucking scavenger._

Oh, the Hero could hide behind that pretty face of his as much as he'd liked, Sheik knew his character. He couldn't wait to put an end to that innocent smile.

He sneezed again, wiping his nose with his lower arm. If he caught a cold because of this, he would never forgive the Hero. Ever. Not even when he was dead, and Sheik was parading his head around on a pike.

He shivered and threw more kindling and broken-up branches on the fire. It wasn't going to last long, but his internal clock told him morning was only a few hours away. The Hero would probably be on his way at first light, and then Sheik could at least look for his sword before following.

He and the Hero weren't done.

Not by a long shot.

* * *

Morning did indeed arrive a few hours later, the sun hidden behind a grey ceiling of clouds with darker smatterings that had yet to unleash their downpour.

When Sheik emerged from his protective copse of trees, a great deal drier and warmer than he was when he'd arrived, he discovered that he wasn't very far away from his original hiding spot. He should have gone with this place right away, rather than throwing himself under a random bush, a lesson he intended to internalise as soon as possible.

Hell, he could see the Hero's camp just from poking his head out from among the trees. Or what remained of the camp, at any rate. The Hero was gone along with his evil horse, his campfire reduced to a smoking, smouldering pile. As he came closer, wary in case it was all a trap, he saw boot and horseshoe tracks in the mud, leading northwards, further up the hills. That was a relief, at least, that the Hero continued further onto solid ground instead of back into the swamp.

He was about to search for his eightfold blade (likely buried in the mud somewhere) when he spotted something on the log, nearly obscured by the smoking remains of the campfire. His sword, looking clean and untouched, rested against the rock wall, while his pack stood solitary and alone on the log...next to a piece of folded fabric Sheik recognised as the Hero's cloak.

Cautiously approaching the site, Sheik cast suspicious looks around, just _waiting_ for the Hero to appear with his sword in hand, ready to finish him off...but nothing happened.

_A booby trap, then,_ Sheik concluded, cautiously poking first the cloak and then the pack with his knife. Neither action set off some hidden trap. He carefully looked over his sword, trying to spot wires connected to explosives or what have you. Nothing. Sheik picked up the sword and inspected it closely, finding no evidence of tampering. In fact, it almost looked like it'd been...sharpened?

_Why the fuck would he sharpen _my_ sword?_ he wondered, sheathing it on his back before focusing on the cloak and his pack. There was something fluttering among the folds of the cloak, which turned out to be a piece of paper, on which was written in charcoal:

_ **You dropped these!** _

The Hero's handwriting was crude and jagged, not at all elegant. Sheik snorted and tore the note up, dropping it into the smouldering embers. It was just the kind of arrogance Sheik had expected from someone like him.

He ignored the cloak and grabbed his pack, intending to inspect what little remained inside, wondering how much the bastard Hero had stolen, and was surprised at how heavy it suddenly was. Opening it, Sheik's jaw dropped as he found it quite a bit fuller than it had been last night.

Not only were his supplies still there (including his whetstone, looking recently used), but also his shuriken and his map (helpfully filled in with notes in the same crude handwriting—most of them inane ramblings about good nap spots). The rest of the space was occupied by food. And lots of it. Paper-wrapped meat, both raw and cooked, and several bunches of vegetables like carrots and potatoes.

"What the fuck," he murmured, ignoring how his mouth had immediately begun to water at the sight of it all. Poisoned, clearly. The Hero wasn't very smart if he thought Sheik would fall for such a simple trick.

He made to empty his pack, but distant rumble of thunder told him he was running out of time before the rain started again. He could throw out the food later, he decided, and was about to leave the cloak behind when a small patter of rain began to fall, a single drop immediately hitting him in the eye.

"I fucking hate Akkala," he grumbled under his breath and grabbed the cloak as well, throwing it around himself and pulling the hood up to cover his head, stubbornly ignoring how snug and warm it made him feel...as well as how the scent of the Hero who'd worn it made his stomach do that weird, comfortable lurch again.

"I'm going to kill him," he grumbled under his breath as he set out to follow the Hero's tracks.

* * *

Later that day, in a fit of desperation caused by hunger and after a thorough inspection of smell, taste and touch (poison could be detected in many ways), Sheik ate one of the bits of cooked meat left in his pack while nestled in the warming cocoon of the cloak.

It was one of the best things he'd ever eaten.

Damn the Hero!

* * *

The lab turned out to be the only building within miles, situated on top of one of the tallest hills in Akkala, overlooking a huge ravine. Sheik caught up with Link...er, the Hero two days after their battle, having been forced to take shelter during a particularly harsh shower lest he wanted to be washed away. By the time he did spot the Hero, however, it was too late to ambush him on the road, as he had already reached the lab and was going inside.

Sheik kept his distance. If this was a Sheikah laboratory, there'd probably be dozens of his irate cousins inside, ready to kill the Yiga intruder the moment he was detected.

Not that Sheik doubted his own stealth skills, of course (of course not!), but there was no telling what kind of security measures had been put into place around the site, especially of the technological kind. Dozens of dead and destroyed Guardians littered the yard around the laboratory, many of them ripped to pieces and scrapped for parts to build and power the many thingamajigs and doodads that had been seemingly grafted onto the house, including what looked like a gigantic telescope.

Instead of walking into a death trap, Sheik decided to scout around the area instead, trying to find an optimal place to lie in wait and attack. There wasn't much - the laboratory was surrounded on three sides by tall grass which wouldn't help much if someone one the roof happened to look down. The eastern side of the property terminated in a sharp decline into what looked like a ravine, filled with yet more destroyed Guardians, both big and small.

Sheik grimaced, looking down at the twisted, broken remains of the Sheikah's greatest weapons, so easily overtaken by Lord Ganon. There was their cousins' greatest mistake: putting their trust in machines that had been buried for a reason. That, and swearing fealty to a royal family that, at regular intervals, decided that there were just a few too many of the silver-haired, red-eyed people running around and it was time for a culling.

How the Sheikah still believed that serving the Hylian royal family was a good idea after so long was beyond Sheik's comprehension, and he honestly felt a bit sorry for them—they'd clearly been deluded, again and again, into believing it was in their best interest, to the point where it had become ingrained in them as a culture. Pitiful.

That said, he wouldn't hesitate to strike them down should they try to stop him from accomplishing his mission.

Still, it left him with no good way of approaching the lab, and for now he would simply have to wait. The ravine would be a good spot for an ambush, if the Hero would even go near it.

For once, luck was on his side. A few hours after he'd settled into a temporary camp near a small copse of trees down the hillside, he heard the door of the lab open and close. Sheik snuck his way up the hill and slithered into the grass, watching with interest as the Hero went inside the lab's attached stable and emerged without his steed, but with a larger pack. He had his sword on his back, a metal shield that looked shiny despite the lack of direct sunlight, a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Annoyingly enough, he'd switched his distinctive blue tunic for a set of Sheikah armour, the eye emblazoned on his chest staring defiantly at Sheik.

He looked prepared for a fight, but he was alone. Had he seen Sheik, somehow, and was getting ready for round two?

No, it didn't seem like it, as Link—fuck, the Hero!—headed for the ravine, descending into it via a small, natural ramp. Sheik followed him cautiously through the grass, looking over the edge and finding, to his surprise, the Hero hard at work dismantling one of the dead Guardians. The pack he'd brought was full of tools, which he was using to open up and carefully remove various bits and pieces from the Guardian's interior, placing them into a smaller bag.

He was completely focused on his task, and Sheik saw no greater opportunity than this. Grinning, he carefully eased himself into the ravine, careful not to make too much noise. It was raining again, so the sound of the drops hitting the metal carapaces hid what little noise he made quite well. As his feet touched the bottom of the ravine, Link appeared none the wiser, humming to himself as he continued to more or less disembowel the Guardian.

Sheik's steps were slow and deliberate as he eased his sword out of its scabbard, his other hand loosening the pouch on his thigh in case he needed his newly sharpened dagger or any of his shuriken. Not that he would. L—the Hero wouldn't even see it coming!

"Damn it!" Link suddenly yelped, yanking his hand out of the carapace and gingerly touching one of his fingers, which looked burned. Sheik's heart jumped, and he threw himself behind one of the fallen Guardian wrecks, just in case Link happened to look back. "'Out of charge' my arse," Sheik heard him grumble under his breath. He reached for his belt and pulled out what appeared to be a flat book of some sort, but which lit up brilliantly.

The Sheikah Slate.

Sheik had forgotten to look for it the night he'd fought Link. Had it been on his belt the whole time? Eugh, he should have tried to destroy it!

Well, he had another opportunity now. The Hero messed about with it for a few seconds before putting it away again, sucking on his hurt finger before diving back into his work.

Perfect. Sheik made to leave the cover of the dead Guardian, when a strange sound caught his attention. Like...a pulsating drone that kept increasing in pitch? But where was it coming from? He put his ear to the dead Guardian's...abdomen? Yeah, abdomen. The sound was much clearer now. The power source must still be active, which was impressive given its age, especially since it meant the Guardian was more or less...alive...

Time slowed down as Sheik looked to the Guardian's head, where its mechanical eyelid had slid open, the mad, swirling blue eye staring down at him.

_Fuck. Me._

Sheik swallowed heavily. "Erm...hello?" he said quietly. "Friend?"

They _were_ allies, weren't they? Lord Ganon still had some sort of control over these things, _right_?!

The eye turned red.

_Shit!_

Sheik had seen live Guardians before, but never this close. He still recognised what was about to happen, however, as red light began to emanate from its eye, a flashing beam targeting his chest, the hum growing louder and louder. He was frozen in place, unable to act! He had seconds at best, and he wasn't even able to make use of them!

The light grew sharper, and Sheik knew it was the end—

"Get down!"

The Hero's body slammed into Sheik, sending them both hurling out of the way. The Guardian fired, and the massive boom had Sheik's ears ringing and the entire ravine shaking. A great chunk of earth was vaporised where the beam struck, the rest ripped out of the ground and thrown into the air to rain down the surrounding area.

Dazed and more than a little confused, Sheik tried to get up, but he was harshly pushed down by a hand on his back.

"Stay down!" Link ordered, running at the Guardian, armed with nothing more than what seemed to be a spanner. The Guardian moved, now rising out of its half-buried state, the rusty metal creaking and groaning with protest, its long and segmented legs finding purchase in the dirt. Its eye scanned the ravine and quickly found the Hylian running foolishly towards it and began to target him. Link, with a cry, threw the spanner and struck its eye directly, causing the Guardian's head to spin wildly around in an effort to protect it from further damage.

It gave Link enough time to rush past and retrieve his sword and shield. The beam was at his back, targeting and powering up, and he turned around just in time for it fire once more...too fast for him to dodge. Instead, he readied his shield.

Idiot, those things weren't built for that!

"Wait—!" Sheik shouted.

The Guardian fired, and Sheik half-expected to see the Hylian get vaporised...or turned into little pieces and scattered all over the ravine.

Instead, he was shocked as Link moved _just so_, catching the beam with his shield at an angle, deflecting the devastating attack altogether. It struck the side of the ravine, which exploded and sent molten and sharp pieces of rocks flying every which way. The Guardian rocked back and forth on its spidery legs, adjusting for the recoil, trying to reacquire its target.

Too late. Link was ready in a flash, quickly crossing the distance between him and the Guardian, which lashed out with its legs to keep him at bay. It might as well have been trying to catch a wave—Link nimbly ducked under a pincered leg that aimed for his head and hopped over another coming at him from below. The third tried to sweep him off his feet, but Link jumped and, turning in the air, sliced the leg clean off with a single stroke of his eightfold blade.

Unbalanced by its sudden missing appendage, the Guardian tilted a little and tried to turn its head, bringing the cannon to bear, but Link was already moving again, giving the first two legs the same treatment, cutting one off at the pincer and cleaving the other nearly in twain.

Now unable to stand properly, the Guardian fell on its side, head swivelling, desperate to reacquire Link.

And it did.

Just before Link sank his blade to the hilt into its eye, gave it a vicious twist, and yanked the sword to a shower of sparks and smoke. With a bang, one of the panels on its abdomen blew open, blue-tinted pillars of flame rising. The Guardian gave a loud groan, and stopped moving, the sparks ceasing.

Sheik remained where he was, kneeling on the ground, eyes wide. The fight hadn't even lasted a full minute—one of the most fearsome things a traveller could encounter in Hyrule, and Link had dealt with it like it was nothing, nonchalantly cleaning his blade with a piece of oily cloth.

"That was close," Link said, turning to look at Sheik with a small grin. "You all right?"

"What...what the fuck was that?" Sheik asked, limbs still refusing to move.

What the hell _was_ he?!

Link shrugged. "They're not so bad once you figure out how to deal with them. Gotta be careful around the dead ones, though—you never know if they're actually dead or just asleep."

Sheik spluttered. "I wasn't talking about _that_; I was talking about _you_!"

Link blinked, confused. "I'm sorry, but if I hadn't knocked into you, you'd be dead—"

"I didn't need your help!"

Link's expression was not amused. It was a sort of sarcastic smile, but with an undercurrent of pity. As if telling Sheik just how wrong he was with no words.

"So, I should have let you die?" Link asked.

"Yes!" Sheik shouted, relieved to finally hear _some_ sense from the other man. It was the first sane thing he'd heard Link say since they'd met!

"Why?"

Scratch that, the man was still insane. "Because we're enemies, you idiot! I tried to kill you two days ago, and you still save me?!"

Link's shoulders lowered, his eyes suddenly finding his boots very interesting. "I don't think you're my enemy," he murmured.

"What?"

"I said—"

Sheik felt the sound in the pit of his stomach before it pierced his eardrum. The same pulsating hum, rising in pitch...multiple of them.

Link must have as well, as he cut himself off from speaking and looked around them. Several more Guardians were waking up, slowly coming online and searching for targets.

"Explosion must have tripped them," Link said, making his way over to Sheik, holding out his hand. "Come on, we gotta go."

For once, Sheik agreed with him. The Guardians clearly didn't care much for alliances, and he had no intention of dying in this fucking pit—not without claiming his prize!

"This way," he told the Hero, gesturing behind them. "The ramp—"

A Guardian came crashing into the ravine, just behind them, blocking off their escape route. The thing was in a sorry state, its head buried in the soft earth by the impact, and it only had two functioning legs, both of which were helplessly waving in the air, unable to find the purchase necessary to pull itself out. Harmless, really, but still in the way.

At their front, no less than three Guardians were now online, swirling eyes scanning the ravine for targets...and finding two.

Link harrumphed and gave Sheik a considering look. "You saw what I did to the first one, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?" Sheik replied.

"Because I can't handle three on my own," the Hero replied, nodding to the three monstrosities approaching them. "You take the one on the right, I'll deal with the other two."

Sheik stared at him, not sure if he just heard him right. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"You heard me!" Link said, charging forward. "Now come on!"

Well, what else could he do, in the end? He gripped his sword tightly and charged with the Hero, focusing his attention on the right-most Guardian, which seemed to already be somewhat damaged. One of its legs kept failing under its weight, resulting in a pretty bad limp.

It didn't stop the cannon from working, however, and Sheik quickly found himself targeted once more. Growling, he withdrew a shuriken from his pouch and, putting years of gruelling training into practice, threw it an arcing trajectory that would've had his teacher weeping with pride instead of laughing with derision.

It even seemed to impress the Guardian, which followed the object with its eye...right until the moment it struck home, burying itself into the ocular unit.

Its reaction was to rear up on its hind legs, wildly batting the air in front of it with its remaining two functioning at the front. Sheik ducked underneath the limbs and struck out with his sword, severing one leg neatly while clipping the other. It wasn't completely effective, but the jerking motions told Sheik he'd cut something important in there. The Guardian gave a groan, and he barely had time to jump out of the way as the carapace came crashing down again, unable to balance on its back legs for too long.

Its eye was still blinded, head swivelling wildly. Sheik ran back towards it, summoning all his strength to his legs and jumped at the ravine wall, kicking off it with enough power to launch him just a little higher into the air...and onto its glowing abdomen. The uneven surface was slippery from the light drizzle that had fallen all day, but Sheik remained firmly planted, waiting for its face to come swivelling back...there!

With a battle cry he reversed his grip on his blade and, mirroring Link's action from before, stabbed the sword into its eye as far as he could.

It felt...disgusting. Instead of a hard, metal-filled interior, he felt like he was sinking his sword into something soft and fleshy, like there was something alive in there. The Guardian gave a high-pitched whine, and Sheik twisted the blade, cutting the sound off immediately as the light went out of its eye. Its legs failed, and Sheik was nearly knocked off the Guardian when its body hit the ground. Yanking his sword out of the eye, he turned to see if Link needed help...and paused.

Link was...terrifying to behold. He never stayed still, never gave the Guardians a window of opportunity long enough for them to get a targeting solution. Instead he forced them into close quarters combat, which the things clearly had never been designed for, especially not when two were in close proximity to each other, their legs continually getting in each other's way, causing nothing but confusion.

And between the noodly appendages, was Link. Dodging and weaving his way through the forest of limbs, he swung and cut, severing a leg here and there, jumping out of the way just in time for one Guardian's leg to punch through the armoured carapace of the other. Or maybe it was the same one—it was hard to tell, with how much movement was happening.

Then something unexpected happened. Link paused and fiddled with his belt, and then a blue orb of some sort appeared in his hand. Sheik blinked in confusion and watched as Link continued to avoid getting struck by the Guardians' legs, nearing the hole that had been punched through the armour of one of them, shoving the glowing orb into it and jumping away. Seconds later, the inside of the Guardian was lit up in blue, and then exploded from the inside, its armour buckling outwards! Its head was launched into the air, landing several dozen feet away. Its smoking, sparking body fell to the ground, dead for good this time.

Awestruck by the sight, Sheik barely noticed Link tripping over a dead leg, and the last Guardian taking advantage of that. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled another shuriken out and thrown it, arcing it perfectly into its eye, aborting its firing sequence and giving Link the window he needed to finish it off with the old sword-eye combination.

The last Guardian fell, giving a sad whine before powering down. Link gave it a last kick before climbing off its abdomen, leaning against the machine to catch his breath.

Sheik was panting as well, but by now he wasn't sure if it was from the exertion of fighting the Guardian, or excitement from watching...well, a Champion in action. Had they all been like this, or was Link a special case? He had to be, right? How else could Lord Ganon have defeated them so easily?

"Thanks for that," Link said after catching his breath, gesturing to the Guardian Sheik had given an eye poke. "You've good aim."

"Best in my clan," Sheik muttered, sliding off the Guardian he'd dealt with, the pair of them meeting in the middle of the ravine, ignoring the Guardian behind them, which was still making futile attempts to right itself.

They both had death grips on their swords, tension filling the air again now that the greater threat was dealt with.

"I guess we're even, now," Sheik said, falling back on irreverence to get him through the situation. A frontal assault wasn't going to work on Link—he knew that now. But he'd lost the element of surprise so hard he wasn't sure this fight was even salvageable at this point. "You saved me, I saved you?"

Link cocked his head to the side again, doing his puppy impression that was infuriating in how _not cute_ it was.

"No, you still owe me," Link said, smiling stiffly.

"How do you figure?" Sheik asked.

"I kinda saved you two nights ago, didn't I? Pretty sure you'd have frozen to death if I hadn't fed and warmed you up—"

Sheik growled. "First of all, I was doing _fine_ before you decided to interfere, all right? Second, you can't claim to have saved me since you ended up punching me and throwing me into the mud!"

"And whose fault was that?" Link asked, glaring at him now. "I told you I didn't want to fight—it could have ended peacefully!"

"How fucking naïve are you, Hero?" Sheik asked, laughing at the absurdity of the statement. "We're enemies—on opposite sides. The only way things end between us properly is when one of us dies at the other's hands!"

"Why?" Link asked. "Because you were ordered, yes, yes, I know," he cut off Sheik before he could speak. "But why do you follow those orders? Is this what you really want? To fight and kill me? Or die trying?"

"I have an obligation to my clan," Sheik spat. "To my family. You wouldn't understand. I have to prove myself worthy. I have to show them that I'm not...not..." he trailed off, realising he was about to say something they'd both regret.

"Not what?" Link asked, his voice soft.

"None of your fucking business!" Sheik shrieked, trying to find a way out. There was none. Which left him with one option. "We're not done, Hero," he said, raising his hands into a gesture Link recognised at this point.

"Wait, don't go—"was all Link managed to say before Sheik was gone once more, reappearing among the tall tufts of grass near the lab.

Huh.

For once the jutsu had actually put him where he wanted to be. Good.

He ran for his temporary camp and gathered up his supplies as quick as possibly, aiming to be as far away from the lab as possible when Link found his way out of the ravine again. Once again, his window of opportunity had closed...and left him confused.

Why the hell didn't Link think Sheik was his enemy? What kind of idiot just up and decides something like that? Especially after a first meeting that wound up with a muddy fistfight and ended in a draw?

_It was definitely a draw,_ he told himself, pulling the hood over his head and racing along the hills of Akkala, wishing it'd just stop raining for a single fucking day.

* * *

It didn't.

For two days, Link remained at the laboratory, working with the elusive Doctor Robbie on who knew what. It involved Sheikah tech, for certain, but exactly what, Sheik had no idea. No thanks to how impossible it was to sneak up on the damn place.

The one time he'd managed to close enough to look into a window, he'd been blinded by something flashing brightly inside and sent him stumbling back into the long grass, deciding that it just wasn't worth trying to get into the lab.

Instead, he spent his time observing the place from afar, going through his map and notes, concluding that Link would head for Death Mountain after this, if he intended to free the Divine Beasts in an order that made sense geographically.

He'd run out of prepared meat on the second day after their meeting, but there was still some uncooked left, which he roasted on his dagger and ate the vegetables raw. It didn't taste nearly as good as the food Link had prepared.

Stupid Hero and his amazing cooking. Just another way of taunting Sheik from afar, the fucker.

On the third day, the Hero finally emerged from the lab, still clad in his Sheikah armour, which immediately made Sheik's day a little worse. He was _definitely_ taunting Sheik now. A tiny little ancient garden gnome of a man accompanied him outside, talking to Link for a moment before nodding and heading back inside, leaving Link to sort out his gear and prepare Maladict for another day's ride on his own.

Sheik watched him, watched how he puttered around and brushed the evil horse down and scraped his hooves, making sure the saddle wasn't too tight, feeding it with a carrot with a stupid, adorable smile on his face...

How a single person could act in such contrasting manners, Sheik had no hope of understanding. Link was a master swordsman and a legendary warrior—he wasn't supposed to be..._nice_. He wasn't supposed to offer his enemy food and shelter, the clothes off his back. He _definitely_ wasn't supposed to ask his enemy why they were fighting! He should have let Sheik get vaporised for his own stupidity, and then moved on.

Link led Maladict out of the stable by the reins and made to climb into the saddle, but paused for a moment, looking out across grassy field, as if searching for something. Sheik ducked a little lower, making sure his hair hadn't come loose from its braid again. It was a filthy mess at this point, the rough soap he'd brought along doing little to help it. Still, he suspected Link was more than eagle-eyed enough to spot some waving grass that was _silver_ in colour rather than the golden-yellow that dominated the hill.

The moment lasted for what felt like an eternity, but then Link's shoulders lowered in a sigh, and he climbed into Maladict's saddle, urging him into a trot, away from the lab and down the hill.

Sheik followed, hoping Link would turn westwards now, and up into the mountains.

* * *

He did.


	4. On Disguises and Trickery

It was amazing, what a day of absolutely no rain whatsoever and blessed dryness could do for Sheik's mood. He was back in his old pattern of following Link and being unable to sneak up on him at night. Clearly, he knew Sheik was following him, and remained alert at nearly all times save for the small bursts of sleep he got. He didn't seem wary, exactly. More...expectant.

Sheik was happy to disappoint him. Presumably the fool wanted to _talk_, even though there was nothing for them to talk about. Sheik had said his piece, and it was Link's fault for not agreeing.

He'd come to learn, soon enough.

The climb into the Death Mountain region was going to take a good week or so, and the terrain was already starting to grow rougher, and that slowed them both down considerably.

Another problem with the route Link was taking was that it was a fairly well-travelled road, which meant more traffic and more people to potentially interfere when Sheik decided to strike.

...though on the other hand, more people meant Sheik could more easily blend in with them, provided he used the tricks he had on hand.

The disguise jutsu had always been a flimsy one, even when it worked. It was a simple glamour, projecting an image around the user to make them looked like someone else, but the moment the user's concentration was disrupted, or something bumped into them and disturbed the flow of energy, it disappeared. Sheik had always been quite good at it, but he figured that the Yiga had already given it away when they'd tried using it on Link in the early days of his quest.

Now that there were people on the road almost all the time, surely he'd be letting his guard down just a little? Enough for Sheik to get close and shove a dagger into his gut?

It was worth a shot. Worst case, the escape jutsu was ready.

He found his disguise on the third day. Link met a travelling merchant and traded with him for a while. During the meeting, another Hylian walked past them, not even stopping to say hello. Sheik kept an eye on him until he rounded the bend and stopped the man.

"Excuse me, sir," he asked, making sure to appear non-threatening...which was, admittedly, hard to do given the way he was dressed and armed. "Do you know the way to Death Mountain?"

The man looked at him sceptically, ears twitching slightly.

Sheik wondered if Link's ears twitched like that when he thought about something.

...not that that Sheik cared, or anything, obviously. Just more information to use against his enemy.

"Yeah, I do," the Hylian said after a while, pointing his thumb behind him. "That way. Follow the road. Can't miss it."

"Are you sure?" Sheik asked, needing just a few more seconds to memorise enough details about his face and outfit. Their height was about the same, age-wise they also matched. Barely into his twenties, if Sheik estimated correctly. "Are there signs?" he added, wondering if it sounded as stupid as it felt.

The man stared at Sheik like he'd just grown two heads. "It's a big mountain that explodes," he said in a deadpan voice. "If you think you're lost, look up. Excuse me."

He then rudely pushed past Sheik and continued on his way. Sheik fought the urge to cut him down for his insolence and, let's face it, rudeness, but he let it go, breathing in and out for a few moments. The man was not his target, and killing someone here and now would just cause more commotion than necessary.

Instead, he retreated off the side of the road and sat down in a meditative pose, folding his fingers into the seal that would help his mind channel the energy correctly. He thought about the Hylian man's face, his eyes, his voice, his clothes...and then imagined it all wrapping around Sheik like a protective cloak.

It felt like the air was rushing around him in a spiral, brushing against his form. Then the vortex narrowed, the wind growing harsher until it was like it went _inside_ him. Sheik opened his eyes and stood up, looking down at the Hylian's clothes, which now covered him.

_Perfect_, he thought, looking at his reflection in the blade of his sword. No imperfections in the face. Even the scruffy little beard the man had attempted to grow was there.

Sheik grinned...and then realised he had a problem. He couldn't hide his weapons. The glamour didn't cover _those_. Link would know it was him from a mile away, carrying an eightfold blade. His pack would be instantly recognisable too.

Hm...

Ah, but of course!

He wrapped the cloak, which he'd taken off since it'd stopped raining, around himself. The sword was on his belt and the pack on his back, both easily covered by the cloak. He'd just look like a random traveller, like this! It wasn't weird to wear a cloak, after all, given how chilly the nights could be!

Satisfied with his brilliant planning, Sheik stepped onto the road again...and nearly bumped into the merchant who'd accosted Link on his way. The man's big nose twitched nervously, the towering burden on his back containing his wares swaying dangerously at the sudden imbalance.

"O-Oh, sorry about that, sir," the merchant said, bowing his head.

"No, no, my fault completely," Sheik said, always a little unnerved when he spoke and heard someone else's voice. "Good day."

He left the merchant behind, failing to hear the merchant's murmuring voice, asking himself:

"Wasn't he going the other way?"

* * *

Sheik took his time, catching up to Link. The Hero wasn't even riding his horse now, simply leading Maladict along by the reins, letting the jet-black avatar of evil graze along the side of the road whenever he wanted to.

Presumably it was plotting how to overthrow its master and wreak havoc across Hyrule. Come to think of it, Sheik should probably just step back and wait for that moment to come. Let Maladict do the deed and steal the credit. Then again, he did seem rather loyal to Link—the hostility had been purely aimed at Sheik, after all.

How'd Link tame such an evil creature, anyway?

His opportunity came soon after, in the form of a small creek and a wooden bridge crossing it. Link, evidently a little tired, led Maladict down the slope to the bank of the creek, removing the horse's saddle and bridle, letting him roam freely for a bit while the Hero made up a fire.

Was he stopping for the night? It wasn't even four past noon!

_What a lazy bum of a Hero,_ Sheik thought, wondering how he'd approach this.

Wasn't it traveller's etiquette to offer others a chance to share one's fire? Yes, yes it was.

He waited until Link had gotten the fire going properly and, after making sure there were no one else nearby, made his move. He stood on the road, raising his hand and shouted in the Hylian man's voice, "Ho there! May I share your fire?!"

Link looked up, spotting Sheik's disguised form and waved back. "Of course!" he shouted, sounding happy.

...which was weird, since Link had specifically said he preferred not to deal with people. Why would he be so happy to suddenly have someone in his camp?

Ah, to ward against Sheik, of course. Two sets of eyes were better than one for keeping watch, and that way Link could probably _finally_ get some proper sleep one the road...

...wait, that wasn't the goal here.

He stepped off the road and approached the little camp. Link had barely been there for half an hour and the place was already looking homey—blankets were rolled onto the grass, and a bedroll were placed on top of them. Cooking utilities were set out and ready to be used. Link was going to prepare something vegetable-heavy tonight, it seemed.

"Thank you for your kindness," Sheik said as he came closer, making sure his weapon was hidden by the cloak. "Social graces are hard to come by these days."

Link stood up, smiling widely at him. "Times are hard, priorities change. But not mine. Come, have a seat. I was just about to start on dinner. Hope you like vegetable stir-fry."

"I...that sounds good, thank you," Sheik said, surprised at how friendly Link was being to this stranger. Hadn't he _said_ he preferred the wilds because there were fewer people? Hadn't he? Why was he so happily hosting a random Hylian man, then? "I'm afraid I don't have anything with which to contribute to the meal—"

"Oh, that's not necessary, I have more than enough for us both," Link said, still smiling as he prepared his pan and a small bottle of oil, placing the pan on the fire. "If anything, I'm glad to have someone help me eat it all. I hate wasting food. I even have a special dessert, if we're still hungry after."

"O-Oh, that's...good," Sheik said, nodding. Well, wasting food _was_ a sin, after all. He supposed he could graciously help Link avoid committing the greatest sin...after which he would kill him. Besides, Link cooking was not something to be missed, as much as Sheik hated to admit it. He adjusted his position in the grass, hoping his sword wouldn't poke out of the cloak at an unfortunate moment.

"I'm Link," Link introduced himself, locking eyes with Sheik. "What's your name?"

"Shiro," Sheik said, wincing a little at the way his disguised voice broke a little in surprise.

_Really?_ _That's the best I could come up with?_

"That's a nice name," Link said, oiling up the pan and waiting for it to begin to simmer. "Are you travelling alone, Shiro?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way to Death Mountain for...for business."

"Mining, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah, that's it. Gorons are the best for that, after all, haha."

"So I hear," Link said, nodding and beginning to put vegetables into the pan. They were already sliced up. When had he had the time to do that?

"And y-you, Link?" Sheik asked. "Are you travelling alone?"

Link's eyes met his again, and it was impossible to miss how the Hero's tongue darted out to lick his lips before disappearing again in the blink of an eye.

Had that even happened?

"Hm, yeah, I am. Or, I think so?"

Sheik paused. "You think so?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

Link put his utensils down and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head, groaning. The movement made the Sheikah armour stretch itself taught over his chest...which was just as muscular as Sheik's tactile memories had suggested. It did _not_ make his cheeks heat up. It did _not_.

Sighing in relief, Link picked up the utensils and continued cooking, humming.

"Well, there's this...guy I keep running into," he said. "He keeps showing up when I least expect it, picking fights."

Sheik nodded slowly. As if he wasn't aware who Link was alluding to. "That sounds annoying," he said. "Is he dangerous?"

Of course he was dangerous, but he wanted it confirmed from Link's own mouth.

Link hummed again, thinking. His ears _did_ twitch!

"Not really."

It was like being stabbed in the heart. Sheik's world narrowed into a tiny pinprick of light.

Not really.

Not really.

_Not really_.

Not really?! He would show Link just fucking dangerous he could be, the smug prick! He'd tear—

"He's cute, though."

...what?

"He tries so hard," the Hero continued, poking at the frying vegetables. "And he doesn't hold himself back at all in anything he does."

"Hmph, and that's _cute_, is it?" Sheik asked, wondering if Link's pan was solid enough to bash the Hero's brains in with. It certainly looked that way.

"I think so," Link said, nodding. "But...he's not as cute as you."

The world narrowed again, and Sheik realised Link had moved to sit closer to him, still smiling placidly.

"I said I was happy to share my food with you," the Hero said, leaning closer. "But I wouldn't be opposed to a kiss, you know, as compensation..."

That was enough. Sheik was already feeling his concentration breaking at the Hero's brazen approach to flirting, but this..._this_ was just not on.

Not on!

He stood up angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Link. "So, this is the kind person you are, huh?! Taking advantage of innocent travellers in exchange for food! I knew you were up to something, o great Champion, but I thought you were a better person than _this_! I ought to kill you right now, you two-timing piece of shit!"

Link stared at him, nonplussed. "Eh?"

"Don't you 'eh' me!" Sheik shrieked, feeling his control on the disguise wavering. He couldn't stop now, though. No, the Hero was scum, and he was damn well going to hear it! "What kind of man, eh, Hero goes around thinking someone is cute, and then turns around and starts flirting with someone else, eh? And in exchange for food?! You're disgusting!"

"But I'm not flirting with someone else?" Link said, still sitting down. "I was flirting with _you_, Sheik."

...eh?

His disguise vanished along with his rage, reduced to a sad little embarrassed cloud, anger replaced by confusion.

"You...you knew it was _me_?!"

Link grinned, nodding. "I saw you coming a mile away."

Sheik spluttered, his tongue suddenly refusing to work. "But I...you didn't...how could...you didn't..._how_?!"

Link laughed, and despite how absolutely furious Sheik was right then, he couldn't help but enjoy the sound of it. It was so...carefree. Relaxed. Peaceful. Which didn't make sense given the current situation. At all.

"Well, I already knew you've been following me since Akkala—I mean, it was obvious—but your disguise...well, three things tipped me off."

Sheik crossed his arms, maintaining his distance. Why wasn't Link standing up? Was this more of his bullshit about not thinking Sheik was dangerous? It was, wasn't it? Totally bullshit, by the way. Sheik was more dangerous than anyone else on this road, that was for certain!

"Yeah? What're those three bullshit things that you've just made up, then?" he asked, trying to ignore how he'd been totally played just now. Valuable data for future disguises, if nothing else.

"One," Link said, holding up his index finger, "I saw the man whose appearance you took passing by earlier today...going the opposite direction. Why would he suddenly go back whence he came?"

Sheik scoffed. "Well, aren't you _observant_."

"Two," Link continued, holding up his middle finger next to the index, "you're wearing my cloak."

Again, Sheik scoffed. "It's a standard traveller's cloak, anyone could be wearing it."

Link shook his head. "The cloak was a gift from an old friend of mine, and I dyed it personally, using a colour I had to make myself because no one else can supply it. There isn't another cloak like it in all of Hyrule, and I'm really fond of it."

Sheik scoffed but said nothing.

His mind, however, treacherously supplied: _And you gave it to me!_

"And third," Link said, raising his ring finger to join the other two, "you have a very distinctive walk."

Sheik stared. "A _distinctive_ walk?" he repeated. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Link stared back. "Exactly what it says?" the Hero tried. "I guess you haven't noticed it, then. That's okay, I sure did."

"And what, pray tell, is so _distinctive_ about my walk?!" Sheik demanded.

"Well, you kind of _sway_ your hips?" Link said, trying to imitate it with his hands in the air. "A bit seductive, you know, like you're just trying to f—"

"Shut up!" Sheik shrieked, his throat feeling like it was about to tear from the force of his voice. "Shut the fuck up right now! I'll kill you!"

A death threat would usually kill any amusement in a given situation, or at least make someone sit up a little straighter, but Link remained where he was, still giving Sheik that infuriatingly placid smile, as if he were watching something incredibly endearing.

"What the fuck are you smiling at?!"

"You're cute when you're embarrassed."

The answer was instant and so unexpected Sheik's heart definitely stopped for a moment. His mouth then refused to cooperate, only making broken, cut-off sounds that in no way resembled speech. Link watched him for a minute, waiting for something coherent to come out, but nothing ever did.

"So—"he began, but that was what Sheik needed for his brain to slot back into place and start working again.

"This isn't over, Hero! I'll be back when you least expect it!"

In the back of his head, thoughts of a jutsu floated around, but he was beyond reason now, his legs working without his permission to take him as far away from this infuriating bastard as possible.

Faintly, he heard the Hero's voice calling after him:

"Wait, what about dinner?!"

* * *

Sheik lost track of where he was going, only stopping when he was fairly certain he was far enough away from Link that he couldn't hear his screams of frustration echoing in the rocky mountainside. Or maybe he did, and found it amusing...which only made Sheik angrier.

_What the fuck was that_?! he thought. _I had him! He was right there! I could have cut his fucking head off! How the hell did he...why did he..._

_Why did he call me cute?_

_And why did he say he wanted a kiss? He was just messing with me, I bet!_

And why had his chest felt like it was constricting, and his stomach was filling with something unbearably yet wonderfully hot at the same time? Why did that stupid smile make him want to smile back? Why was that fucking head tilt of his so fucking endearing?!

And why the _fuck_ could he still smell Link's cooking?!

He screamed again, and again, until his voice grew hoarse, and he was sure he'd woken up every single monster and person in the entire mountain range. Good, why shouldn't they be as miserable as he was?!

He kicked a stray rock and sent it flying down the hill, where it created a miniature rockslide with several of its companions. The motion caused the cloak to billow, and Sheik almost tore it off in anger.

_Oh, you like this cloak, don't you? Well, why don't I just throw it away, then? Trample it into the dirt? Cut it into ribbons?_

He could do that. He'd seen the look Link's face when he'd described the thing. He was clearly fond of it. It'd surely devastate him to discover Sheik had destroyed it.

Only...it _was_ rather warm. And while they were steadily getting closer to the volcano, the nights were still freezing.

He firmly ignored the stone that settled in his gut at the thought of Link's sad face. That was just psychological warfare. He'd managed to plant the idea that he wasn't Sheik's enemy, and that was just unacceptable!

Hmph, the cloak would survive for now, though...if only so he could destroy it in front of Link later. Yes, and take pleasure—not discomfort—in the Hero's devastated face!

Hah, perfect!

* * *

There was a parcel full of food at the abandoned campsite the next day.

Sheik almost managed to ignore it.

Almost.


	5. On Choices and Consequences

It had to be a joke, right? There was no way this could be a serious attempt to lure him in and trap him, surely? If so, then Sheik had some choice words for the Hero and how he viewed Sheik as a threat, because this was just downright insulting!

"Fucking Hero..." he grumbled, staring down at the yellow, delicious-looking banana lying innocently on the ground...in the middle of a loop of rope poorly concealed by the foliage of the bushes around it. The most basic of traps...and the most easily defeated.

Sheik had half a mind to just keep walking, ignoring the almost idyllic copse of trees spouting from the otherwise harsh mountainside, possibly the last oasis of green, soft grass and comforting nature before Death Mountain asserted its presence with bare rock and molten stone.

He'd hoped to catch Link before he entered the mountain range proper, but it seemed he'd run out of time...especially since Link had clearly had time to prepare this ridiculous trap beforehand.

Maybe it was a goodbye message of sorts.

_Here's what I think of you, fuck you, get stuffed,_ or something like that. It'd be just like him, Sheik decided, to screw with his head, first by flirting and then taunting him with this stupidly obvious trap. He could _see_ the counterweight hanging among the branches of the nearest tree, for Din's sake! How was it even going to work, if there was no one there to pull the loop taught and activate the mechanism?

"Yeah, well, fuck you too," he murmured, crouching down in front of the trap, staring hard at the banana.

At least Link had chosen his bait well. One of the others had to have given it away somehow, and Link had assumed it was a universal thing among the Yiga.

Which was ridiculous!

But also very true.

The colour of its skin was exquisite, the curve of it just right. Not a spot to be seen in the yellow hue. If he poked it, Sheik was certain it'd be firm and solid, not soft, yielding or mushy. He could smell it from where he sat, and he could only imagine the taste; sweet and no trace of tartness. It would be almost sinfully delicious, like the bananas reserved for Master Kohga, while the rest of the clan got to fight over the remaining stock, like animals.

Sheik had never managed to get any of the good ones, always stomped down by someone bigger and stronger. The one time he'd managed to sneak up on a Gerudo caravan on his own and stolen a fresh, ripe banana had been...rapturous.

He shook his head, banishing the images from his mind. What good was fantasising when he had the real thing in front of him? Maybe it was actually a parting gift? Or an apology for the night before, when Link had tried to play cruel mind tricks on him?

He stomped down on the slight sting in his chest at the thought of Link just messing with him with his words, like the prick of a needle. It was _his_ loss anyway—if anything, Sheik was the one leading _him_ on.

Yeah, that's it. Sheik was in control, without a doubt.

And that was why he was going to _take_ the banana, he decided, leaning forward and easily lifting the thing out of its rope enclosure. He'd magnanimously accept Link's apology...and show his appreciation by giving him a quick death once he caught up to him, which wouldn't take long. There were only so many roads he could follow up the mountain, after all, and then—

Something clicked. Sheik only caught a glimpse of what appeared to be some sort of weight, hidden beneath the banana...connected to a string...which was connected to the much larger loop of rope that was actually hidden among the bushes.

Which Sheik was standing in the middle of. The loop tightened immediately around his ankle, and there was a loud snapping sound as a second counterweight dropped down from among the branches of a different tree.

"What the f—"Sheik screamed just before his world flipped upside down, dangling by his ankle from the tallest tree in the clearing.

He should have seen it coming. He should have, but he didn't.

Honestly, this time he wasn't even angry. More resigned, and very ashamed, because this was definitely not what an elite Yiga operative (which he was) should fall for in terms of traps. A trap within a trap...frankly, he hadn't been certain Link was capable of such deviousness. Mind games, sure, but physical ones too?

_How did he even prepare a trap like this so fast?_ he wondered. He'd been a mere hour, by Sheik's estimation. Either he'd been very wrong, or Link was _damned_ quick, both in planning and execution. Or he'd gone ahead the night before, prepared the trap beforehand, and led Sheik right to it.

He wouldn't put it past Link at this point. The Hero was probably the evillest man in all of Hyrule. That cute, adorable act of his was just that, an act. He'd fooled everyone with it a century ago, and he had no problems continuing now, Sheik concluded.

At least he hadn't dropped the banana, still clutched safely in his hand. He hadn't even smushed it.

He sighed, the blazing anger in his chest giving way to exhaustion, and he allowed himself to relax a little in his dangling position.

_Might as well enjoy the respite,_ he thought, peeling the skin of the banana and taking a bite.

And almost moaning with pleasure at the taste that flooded his mouth and coated his tongue. He'd been right—it _was_ sinfully delicious. A gift from the Goddess herself; a boon and reward for his persistence and never-ending pursuit of perfection. He'd gladly accept it.

Of course, his enjoyment was ruined by the sound of footsteps—footsteps he'd become quite familiar with over the past few weeks.

"I honestly thought you wouldn't fall for it," Link said, appearing in Sheik's field of view. Even upside-down, Sheik could _see_ the shit-eating grin on the bastard Hero's face. "I almost didn't bother."

Maladict stood behind Link, somehow having not made a single sound while moving. Evil horse. It made eye contact and snorted.

"Hmph," Sheik harrumphed, shifting his weight so he slowly turned away from Link, facing the tree trunk instead, taking another bite of his banana. He didn't have to face Link or his demon horse—it'd ruin his snack.

"I guess all Yiga go nuts for bananas, huh?" Link said, suddenly chuckling. "Or should I say, _bananas_?"

He laughed at his own shitty joke. Sheik did _not_ find it endearing. He _didn't_. He was pissed off, and just wanted to finish his banana and then kill the Hero.

He bit off another piece, taking his sweet time masticating while considering the situation. He wasn't _technically_ stuck in this trap. His sword was within reach, as well as his dagger, and he could easily cut himself down. Link didn't seem to be in a hurry to disarm Sheik either, patiently waiting for Sheik to respond.

Sheik was, however, tired. He deserved a break, in his opinion. He could do without the insufferable commentary from the Hero, but then, one couldn't have everything.

"You're not going to say anything?" Link asked, finally coming back into view as Sheik made a full circuit. His arms were crossed, looking at Sheik with a smile—no, frown, because upside down. "Usually your mouth doesn't stop moving."

Sheik pointedly took another bite.

Link sighed.

"Look, this wasn't even a serious attempt at trapping you. It was just a joke. The banana was a gift—I was going to give it to you yesterday, after dinner, but you ran away before we could eat." He crouched down on the ground so he wasn't looking down at Sheik, his stupid face coming a little closer. Stupid soft, blue eyes... "Are you mad at me?"

Sheik's eyes narrowed, and he peeled the banana a little further, taking another bite of the delicious, delicious fruit. He didn't have an answer to that question. He didn't have a word or phrase descriptive enough for the incandescent rage he felt in the pit of his stomach, fuelled by that weird, fluttery feeling that only increased the closer Link got.

It wasn't..._that_. No way. It was just Link getting into his head.

"You are, huh?" Link said, sitting down on his haunches, sighing. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve it, but...I'm sorry?"

Sheik blinked. Why the fuck was he _apologising_? This was exactly what he wanted, wasn't it? Crushing Sheik's dignity beneath his boot and spitting on the remains?

He shoved the rest of the banana into his mouth and dropped the skin at his feet...or head, on account of being upside down. Swallowing (and lamenting that the treat was gone), he crossed his arms and stared up at Link with narrowed eyes.

"Apology not accepted, huh?" Link said, sighing again. "Figures. I'm not really good with people, so..." He stood up, stretching his arms over his head, his spine popping so loud even Sheik could hear it. "Can you just answer one question for me?"

"...what?" Sheik asked.

"What is _with_ the bananas?" the Hero asks, sounding exasperated. "Why does it drive you all completely batty?"

So, even the great Hero of Hyrule were confused by some things, huh? Sheik hoped it had gnawed at him during the long nights, kept him awake whenever he couldn't leave it for later contemplation. Hope it'd follow him to his grave, which Sheik would happily dig for him and...and...eugh...

Link was going to be dead soon—might as well give him this last satisfaction.

"The clan was starving," he said through gritted teeth. "Decades ago. Underground crops failed after a cave-in. Scouts happened to come across a Gerudo trader whose cargo was nothing but bananas. Saved our ancestors from death by starvation."

Some nights, he imagined he could feel that phantom pain in the pit of his stomach, the gnawing, all-consuming hunger as described by the surviving elders. He'd always been struck deeply by the stories, eight at the time, and hearing how kids younger than him had perished from the lack food.

"So yeah, we tend to appreciate the fruit that kept the clan alive a little more than others do," he finished, glaring at the Hero. "Judge us for it all you want—I don't give a flying fuck!"

Link was quiet for a long moment. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know."

Sheik paused, letting his arms dangle, fingers nearly touching the grass. "You're fucking weird, you know that?" he said.

Link snorted. "I know." He hesitated. "Can we...talk?"

"We already are," Sheik said, rolling his eyes. "That's what the whole thing where we flap our mouths at each other is."

"No, I meant—-eugh, I can't do it when you hang around like that," Link said, growling with frustration. "If I cut you down, are you going to run away?"

"Who knows?" Sheik asked, enjoying the little pokes and stings he could get in. After all the grief he'd suffered because of the Hero, he felt he deserved to deliver a few barbs. "I just might."

"Please?" Link asked, almost pleadingly. "Just...talk to me, and then we can go back to...whatever this is. Assassination?"

"Ideally," Sheik said.

Link didn't look impressed.

"Fine, fine," Sheik said. "I'm getting light-headed anyway."

Link drew a small knife from his belt, the blade reflecting the midday sunlight. He went to cut the rope, but paused and began to fiddle with his belt again, pulling out the Sheikah Slate, which began to glow. He held it up, seemingly angling it for something specific...and then there was a quiet click.

"What're you doing?" Sheik demanded. "Are you going to cut me down or not?!"

"Sorry, sorry, just...immortalising the moment," Link said, getting to work on the rope keeping Sheik in the air.

"What the fuck does that even mea—argh!"

Gravity took hold much faster than he'd anticipated, and he was now lying face-down in the grass in an undignified heap. How much more was his pride going to have to suffer before this was all over? At this rate, his return to the clan would be anything but triumphant, even if he _did _manage to bring Link's annoying head with him.

Annoying head, with its stupid cute smile and adorable eyes...which were staring at him from inches away.

"You okay?" Link asked, lying on the ground on his stomach, looking at Sheik with a worried expression.

"Oh, I'm fucking perfect," Sheik growled, forcing himself to stand despite his increasing desire to just stay on the ground until further notice, watching Link do the same and realising just how graceful and deliberate his movements were. Fuck, even _that_?! "So? You wanted to talk? Then talk!"

Link almost looked surprised, like he _did_ expect Sheik to just bugger off again. Good. Sheik lived to do the unexpected. Tactically retreating now would be just what Link expected him to do, so he endeavoured to the do the opposite. That way he'd remain confused, and Sheik could use that to his advantage. Somehow. Even so, he remained alert, jutsu at the ready—

"I like you."

Eh?

Link held up a hand, face pleading. "Before you go all ultrasonic again, let me explain?"

Eh?!

Sheik's hands were already rising, ready to make the seal, to teleport away from this ridiculousness, his hearing most definitely needing to be checked because he could have sworn he'd just heard the Hero say he liked—

Link's hands were gripping Sheik's wrists, gently and not at all forcefully. His hands were...big. But so careful.

"Please don't run." Link said. "Please."

"I...you...what?!" Sheik said, screaming the last part because...well, _what the fuck_?!

"I like you," Link repeated, sounding more confident this time, his smile returning, like he'd just said something perfectly normal and logical, like how the sky was blue and fire was hot. "A lot."

"I've been trying to kill you," Sheik stated, unable to take his focus off the soft grip Link had on his wrists. It wasn't even a grip, really, he was just..._holding_ them. "Multiple times."

Link's lips quivered, fighting down the smile.

"Not very...efficiently," he said, which was probably the kindest way to put it. "I mean, I'm not exactly dead, am I?"

"Not for the lack of trying," Sheik snarled.

"Are you sure?" Link asked.

Sheik made to pull away but Link suddenly tightened his grip.

"Are you _sure_ you want to kill me?" Link asked, stepping closer. "Are you sure you've actually been trying since the first night?"

"I...nearly had you in the ravine," Sheik tried, realising he needed to get away from the Hero, right now...but his body failed to act. It felt...strange, to have the Hero's hands on him like this, but not...wrong? "If it hadn't been for the Guardian..."

"You might have tried, but I don't think you'd have gone through with it," Link said, eyes softening.

"And how the fuck do you know that, huh?" Sheik demanded, annoyed at how soft his own voice had gotten in response to Link's. His heart was thudding hard inside his ribcage, almost painfully so. His breathing was so loud. "How the fuck do you know I wouldn't have stabbed you in the back?"

"I just do," Link said, letting his hands slide up along Sheik's lower arms, thumbs settling in the crooks of his elbows, squeezing lightly. "Because I can tell you're not a bad person."

"I'm a Yiga," Sheik scoffed, not opposed to the warmth of Link's hands on him.

In the back of his mind, he faintly heard his own voice screaming at him, demanding that he stab Link, to take the opportunity to kill him, but...it was so faint. So easily ignored. Link was far more interesting to look at.

"And? Does that automatically make you bad?"

"Ask the rest of Hyrule," Sheik scoffed.

"I'm not asking Hyrule, I'm asking you," Link said, shaking his head. "I don't think you're bad. I think you're a good person stuck in a bad place."

Their faces were really close now, and Sheik realised he'd forgotten to pull his mask back up to cover his face. This situation was...unacceptable and had to be defused right now.

Right. Now.

_Right now_!

"And you're just going to pull me out of it, are you?" he asked quietly, almost at a murmur.

"If you'll let me," Link replied. "Will you?"

"I..."

He should be fighting Link right now, doing his utmost to kill him. To bring honour to himself, to his clan, by bringing Master Kohga the head of their worst enemy, of the greatest threat to Lord Ganon's power. Why then, was he contemplating only how close Link was, and how all it would take was to lean forward to...to...

"I...don't understand..." he said weakly, almost whimpering as Link's hands slid upwards again, fingers tracing along his biceps, his shoulders, his collarbone...and then holding his face so gently he barely even felt it, his cheeks warming up to intolerable temperatures. "Why are you...?"

"Because I like you," Link said simply, his face now so close to Sheik's he could feel the other's breath ghosting over his lips. "And because I think you like me too. Am I wrong?"

Yes.

That's what he wanted to say. What he'd told himself over and over since he'd first laid eyes on the stupid, smug, annoying Hylian...but was it true, really? Sheik wasn't sure anymore.

"Sheik?" Link whispered.

"Y...Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Hgh...gh?!"

Link laughed. "I meant what I said, you know. You're really cute when you're embarrassed." He leaned in, closer and closer, giving Sheik every opportunity to pull away.

He didn't.

He wanted...he wanted to...to ki—

Something was wrong. Instinct taking over, he pushed Link away, eyes darting around the area. There was something...off about the clearing. Like they were being watched.

"Sheik?" Link asked, picking up on the entirely different tension that had settled over them, his hand reaching for the sword at his side.

"Show yourselves!" Sheik demanded, glaring at the red-clad shapes that appeared from behind the trees and rocks. Five in all, led by a huge man with an equally huge Windcleaver on his back. Their faces were hidden by white porcelain masks with the upside-down eye painted on them.

The Yiga.

With the worst fucking timing.

Sheik knew who it was before the bastard started speaking, but it was still a shock to hear Keven's booming voice echo across the small clearing.

"Well, isn't this adorable?" the large Yiga said, his words slightly muffled by his mask. "I'm sorry, are we interrupting?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you are," Sheik hissed. "Fuck off, Keven!"

Keven laughed, and was quickly joined by the other four. "Sharp-tongued as ever, Sheik, it's good to know you haven't changed. Or maybe you have? I mean, you were sent to kill the Hero of Hyrule, and instead we find you in his arms, letting him use you like a common harlot? What do you think Master Kohga would say if he saw you acting like this?"

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, why now?!_

Weeks of following Link around, and not a single Yiga around to offer assistance (even though Sheik would have told them to bugger off), and they show up _now_? Just as he was about to...to...

...what _was_ he about to do?

"I don't know, Keven," one of the other Yiga said, her voice mocking. Reyla. Another of Sheik's least favourite people in the world. That particular list was long, but her name was near the top, just underneath Keven's. "Maybe Master would be relieved to finally see Sheik doing what he does best? He hasn't shown us his _skills_ in a long time."

The word was filthy in her mouth, and Sheik felt the old, familiar stab of shame in his chest. He'd done what he had to survive, damn it, that was all!

"What's the plan here, Sheik?" Keven asked, stepping forward with his arms out wide, acting confused. "Get close to the Hero and take advantage of his lack of guard? Brilliant...but you've been awfully close for quite a while now, haven't you, and I've yet to see you do anything with it."

Sheik spat on the ground. "I'd tell you my plan, Keven, but I don't want to give you a headache. It's got more than two steps, and we all know how you handle anything more complex than hitting something with your sword until it dies."

Keven paused, fists clenching at his sides. "Watch your words, Sheik," he said quietly. "I might not be in a forgiving mood."

"Struck a nerve, did I?"

"Sheiky," Reyla sing-songed, tapping her finger against the handle of the eightfold blade on her hip. "Tread carefully. You're stepping on quicksand, here."

Beside Sheik, Link's hands were roaming across his weapons. A knife, his own eightfold blade on his back, and the Sheikah Slate. Where the fuck was the rest of his gear? On Maladict, probably.

"I'm light on my feet, Reyla," he told her, sweat running down his neck in rivulets. What should he do? The answer was obvious—now that he had an audience, he had to...finish the job. But Link... "I'll be all right."

"Enough!"

Keven's voice was firm and angry, and Sheik was immediately brought back to long afternoons spent in the training halls, to the pain inflicted on him by the man in front of him, the taunting words in his ears, the husky whispers in the night, when everyone else was asleep...

"Sheik," Keven said. "For once in your life, don't fuck everything up! Finish the job! Kill the Hero, and let's go home! I'll even give you the credit—it'll please Master Kohga!"

_I...should do that,_ Sheik thought, his ears filling with noise, stomach roiling uncomfortably as his eyes met Link's, which were wide and pleading.

"Sheik," Link said quietly. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to do as they say. Not if you don't want to."

"Sheik is a Yiga, _Hero_," Keven said, putting a hand on his Windcleaver. He had done terrible things with that blade. "Not a very good one despite our best efforts, but at least he knows better than to disobey orders. Sheik, do it. Now."

Staring at the ground, at his boots in the grass, Sheik drew his blade, his grip so tight he could feel the circulation in his fingers getting cut off.

"You're not like them, Sheik," Link kept pleading, deliberately staying close to him, hands off his weapons. "You don't have to go back—I know you don't want to. I don't care if you don't like me, I'll help you in any way I can."

"Sheik!" Keven barked. "This is a direct order—kill him. Now!"

"No."

Silence descended upon the group, some unsure if they'd even heard the murmured word right.

"What was that?" Keven asked, his voice low. "I'm sure I didn't hear you right."

"I said no," Sheik said, raising his voice to a shout. "I won't kill him!"

"That's...a pity, but expected," Keven said, finally drawing his Windcleaver, the blade singing as it cut the air in front of him. "You've clearly been compromised. You've always been unreliable, but I hoped you'd at least show some loyalty, a little backbone! But no, you've always been a snivelling little coward, and now you'll die as one as well!"

"Can I have him, Keven?" Reyla asked. "I'd like to play with him a little."

"Do as you like," Keven said. "The Hero is mine."

Sheik glared at them, considering his options. Five against one were bad odds, especially with two of them being Keven and Reyla.

"I'm with you," Link said, stepping up to his side. "I won't let them kill you, Sheik."

Sheik huffed. "Going to be my hero, huh?"

"If you'll let me."

"How sweet," Keven said, laughing. "Go!"

The Yiga charged as one, and Sheik lost sight of Link as Reyla and a second operative closed in on him immediately, blades slicing through the air. He ducked beneath Reyla's high cut and parried the other's thrust at his gut, lashing out with a badly aimed cut of his own that was easily dodged.

"Come on, Sheiky," Reyla laughed. "Don't draw this out! Just be a good boy and kneel, and I promise I'll make it quick!"

"Fuck you!" Sheik growled, reaching into his thigh pouch and throwing a handful of razor-sharp shuriken at his attackers. Reyla easily avoided them, but the second Yiga cried out in pain as one of the projectiles embedded itself in his shoulder.

"Your aim's still shit, then," Reyla laughed, coming in low and trying to slice his shin, which Sheik blocked.

She'd always been fast, and Sheik could barely keep up with her as the eightfold blade carved its way through the air, aiming for his weak spots. Behind her, the second operative had removed the shuriken from his shoulder and dropped their sword in favour of one of the clan's sickles, twirling the curved blade menacingly as Reyla kept forcing him back.

Sheik blocked an overhead blow, but Reyla didn't pull back, pushing down with all her strength...to hold him in place as the sickle-wielding operative came charging in from behind her, going for a wide swing that'd disembowel him if he let it hit. Unable to disengage from Reyla, Sheik let go of his sword with one hand and drew his dagger, swiping at Reyla just in time to make her step back, letting him duck and roll under sickle while also slashing the bastard's thigh wide open.

The operative cried out and fell to the ground, cradling his wound, effectively out of the fight.

"Well, at least you've learned _something_," Reyla said as they circled each other, her voice unimpressed. "Shut _up_, Riki!" she shouted at the wounded Yiga. "It's barely a flesh wound!"

"It's down to the _bone_!" Riki screamed back.

"Get the hell out of the way, then!"

There was a loud bang, and the flutter of paper.

_One down,_ Sheik thought. Riki was barely worthy of notice—if anything, Reyla was even more dangerous on her own.

"Pay attention!" she barked, throwing her hand out, releasing a bunch of shuriken of her own. Sheik twisted of the way and lashed out with his sword, felt and heard a metallic _ping_ as one of the projectiles bounced off it.

And then Reyla was there, her sword cutting his side. Sheik threw himself aside, crying out at the feel of the blade biting into his flesh. Not deep, but enough to cause pain, to cause him to bleed. Warm wetness immediately spread from the wound, the feel of it disgusting.

"Fuck!"

"That's just the beginning, Sheiky," Reyla taunted. "You know what happens to traitors! You'll be lucky if I kill you _before_ I peel your skin off!"

Behind them, Sheik heard the clashing of blades and grunts of pain. Some came from Keven. Good. Fucker had no idea what he was going up against when facing Link. If he could handle two Guardians on his own, then three Yiga, including the biggest piece of shit the clan had ever produced, shouldn't be no trouble.

"You'll have to beat me first," he told her, having no attention of making it easy on her.

"You say that like I haven't done that every time we've fought before," she said, laughing. "Come on, then, show me if you've learned!"

_Well, not so much learned..._

He reversed his grip on his dagger in his left hand, holding his eightfold blade in a standard position. If he could lure her in close...

Or just cut out the middleman and do it himself. He threw himself at her, slashing and cutting as fast as he could, trying to force her back on the defensive. She mustn't have expected the aggressive assault, drawing back a little, focusing on parrying his blows but not making any overt attacks. Almost like she was studying him.

"You're slower," she said. "Been slacking off, Sheiky?"

He didn't reply, just kept attacking. Each movement kept tugging at the wound in his side, tearing at the skin. She was right, though. He was getting slower. Weeks on the road with few opportunities for sparring hadn't helped.

"It's cute, how hard you keep trying," she said, dancing out of reach...and then suddenly appeared right in front of him, handily dodging his attacks. The dagger went flying out of his hand, wrenched aside roughly as his knee connected with his gut, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending him flying backwards, gasping for breath. He tried to stand up, but her foot on his wrist and blade at his throat stopped him. "Sheiky, you never stood a chance. You know that, right? Why couldn't you just have been a good little boy and done as you were told? Master Kohga would've been so proud—"

"I don't fucking care about Kohga!" he wheezed. "He never believed in me in the first place!"

Reyla hummed. "Well, that's true. It was really cute, though, how you kept trying to get his approval. Too bad I have to kill you now—don't worry, though, I'll bring him your head. He might find a use for it as decoration!" She drew back her sword and made to thrust it into his gut, but a shadow suddenly fell over them both, and made her look up.

"What's tha—"

A horse's hoof slammed into her face, breaking her mask into a million pieces and sending her flying backwards, out of view. A little dazed, Sheik watched as Maladict's head appeared above him, muzzle poking his forehead before giving it a lick with his long. rough tongue.

"Ew," Sheik groaned, pushing Maladict's head away and sitting up, hissing as his wound was tugged at again. He wiped the slobber off his face, glaring up at the demon horse. "I still don't like you," he hissed.

Maladict snorted, tongue darting out threateningly.

Several feet away, Reyla's body lay still in the grass, her face covered in dozens of little nicks and cuts from the broken pieces of her mask. Her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, proving that Maladict was not a force to be messed with.

A loud boom drew his attention away from the dead Yiga and to the remaining combatants.

Link was...impressive to watch. He was outnumbered, but still managed to keep all three of the Yiga from overwhelming him by drawing them into the copse of trees, preventing them from surrounding him. The cramped quarters also made it impossible for Keven to use his Windcleaver to its full, devastating effect, the huge blade requiring a lot of room to build up force.

Not that Keven wasn't dangerous without his sword's special attributes. The man had always been a terror in the training halls, and now that he wasn't bound by rules, he was even worse. Each time his sword connected with Link's, Sheik could see Link's entire form shudder under the weight. By now he was having trouble holding Keven off while also making sure the other two weren't going to gut him from the side or behind.

Link went on the offensive, elbowing one Yiga in the gut and kicking another in the chest, focusing on Keven. For a moment, it even looked like Link was going to overwhelm the larger man, but then Keven barked a laugh and spun, knocking Link's sword aside with the flat of his hand and slamming the handle of the Windcleaver into Link's temple. It didn't knock Link down, but it caused him to stumble aside, off-balance.

Sheik saw red. The world around him faded and all he saw, all he heard, was Keven.

His legs moved by themselves, taking him closer and closer to the huge man. In his periphery, a large, black form was moving alongside him, eyes glowing with malevolence aimed at those trying to hurt its master.

"Leave him the fuck alone!" Sheik screamed, sword aimed directly at Keven's middle, angled upwards to stab through everything vital to the fucker—

"Too slow!" Keven shouted, turning much quicker than a man his size had any right to, Windcleaver howling as it...well, _cleaved_ through the air in a blow that'd cut Sheik in half if it struck. Sheik jumped forward, narrowly avoiding such a fate and barrelled into Keven's middle, taking the man off-balance.

Idea.

Sheik wrapped his arms around Keven and pushed with all he had, using his momentum to swing his legs and wrap them around Keven's, tangling them together and preventing Keven from adjusting his footing. Down they went, with Sheik on top.

_Great. What now?_

Keven answered that for him with a fist to his chin, a blow that made Sheik see stars as he rolled off Keven and into an unsteady crouch, his sword long gone, fucked off to somewhere he couldn't see.

Then Keven was on him, and all was a struggle to keep the man's hands from wrapping around his throat. They wrestled on the ground, weapons gone, and while Keven had mass on his side Sheik was more flexible, grappling and kicking and biting whatever he could, knowing that the moment he stopped and Keven got a firm grip, he was _fucked_.

"Do you even know why Kohga sent you, Sheik?" Keven asked, panting with exertion, trying to pin him down but failing as Sheik aimed to be like a slippery eel.

With elbows.

Which he used to great effect, slamming one into one of Keven's kidneys.

"He knew—oof!"

"Don't—rgh—care!" Sheik growled.

"It wasn't a test," Keven continued. "He knew you couldn't be trusted! You weren't sent to kill the Hero—you were sent to die!" He managed to wind his arms around Sheik's torso and lifted him into the air, only to slam him into the ground like a sack of potatoes, making the world spin. Crouching above him, Keven panted, his mask crooked and a little bloody, though where the blood came from was a mystery. "So just lie still and take it, you little shit!"

"Hell no!" Sheik growled, shifting his weight to his elbows and wrapping his legs around Keven's neck and _twisting_. Bastard's neck was too meaty to snap, but it certainly brought him down to the ground, where Sheik adjusted his position and used his last shuriken—stabbing it into Keven's right palm. "_You take it!"_ he shrieked, squeezing his legs together with all his strength, hoping to crush Keven's windpipe. It didn't work, but the man's struggles grew more and more feeble, his useless right hand pinned to the ground and his left held at bay by Sheik's own. "Go the fuck to sleep!"

"You—rgh—fucking—ragh—traitor!"

Keven's eyes rolled up into his skull, and his body went limp. Sheik let go and rolled himself off the large body, which immediately began to stir, the Yiga barely affected. Sheik couldn't hope to kill Keven with his bare hands...but all he needed was time enough to find something with which to do it.

Like the dropped Windcleaver.

He couldn't hope to lift it with just one hand and struggled even with two. It took everything he had to lift the Windcleaver, blade pointed down, position it over Keven's chest and _thrust_—

The fucker caught it!

Keven's gloved left hand wrapped around the cleaver's blade, halting it inches above his body.

"Fucking die!" Sheik cried, leaning all his weight on the sword. Keven groaned, and for a moment it seemed like he'd be able to hold him back...and something gave way, and the blade sank into the Yiga's chest, cutting through skin, muscle and tendon, piercing whatever excuse for a heart the bastard had. Keven gasped and gurgled, his body convulsing until Sheik gave the Windcleaver a vicious twist.

Keven's body gave one last jerk, and then went limp. Sheik, panting with exhaustion, stumbled back, leaving the sword embedded in Keven's body, looking around for the rest of the battle...and finding it to be over.

Link was leaning against the trunk of the tree Sheik had been dangling from minutes before, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. A Yiga lay groaning a few feet away, clutching a hand that was missing several fingers. The last Yiga was dead, still and unmoving, at Maladict's hooves. The evil horse that maybe wasn't so bad after all saw no problem with eating a few tufts of grass from a patch next to the body, fixing Sheik with a look.

"Are you okay?" Link asked, looking at the carnage around them. "I'd have helped, but...you looked like you had things in hand."

Feeling a little lost, Sheik looked back down at Keven's body.

Keven.

His body.

He was dead.

Keven was dead.

Sheik had killed him. Sheik had driven his own sword into his heart and...and...

The world spun again, and his stomach felt like it was about to turn itself inside out. His legs gave out, and his knees hit the grass. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? Everything was going dark...

Link's face appeared, his lips moving but his words sounding like they were far away, or under water.

Was Sheik dying? Was that what this was? Well, if so...he didn't really mind Link's face being the last thing he saw...

He let himself fall, embracing the darkness.

* * *

He woke to a clear night sky and a billion shining stars, and a moon so full and large it looked like it was about to come crashing down. Usually a soothing sight, Sheik could've sworn that, for a brief moment as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, he saw a pair of ghoulish, yellow eyeballs on its surface. But then they were gone.

He breathed out wondering if he was going mad, shifting and realising he was lying on a bedroll and covered in a blanket. A campfire burned brightly beside him, crackling and filling the air with its comforting smell.

_Reminds me of Link..._ he thought, eyes widening. "Link—"

"I'm here," the Hero said, his hand on Sheik's shoulder keeping him down. "Take it easy—you're hurt. I've bandaged the wound as best I can, but it's best not to tug on it too much."

The fantastic, sharp ache of a blade wound in his side made itself known with a twinge, and he groaned. "What happened?"

"You passed out," Link said.

"No shit," he growled.

Link hummed. "Had to get you out of there after the fight, so I threw you over Maladict's back and went down the mountainside."

"Down?" Sheik asked. "Where are we?"

"Back in Akkala."

Sheik needed a moment after hearing that.

"_Why_ are we back in Akkala?" he asked as calmly as he could, wondering why the fates were conspiring against him by forcing him to return to the worst place in the world?

At least it wasn't fucking raining for once, but who knew how long that'd keep up?

"I don't know Death Mountain very well, figured I'd double back and get you situated somewhere I _do_ know," Link said, shifting in his seat so he could look down at Sheik properly. He had a huge bruise on his right temple, nearly covering the whole side of his face, courtesy of...Keven...

His breath hitched, mind flooding with images of Keven, dead, with the Windcleaver embedded in his chest...

"You're hurt too," he said, his voice a little raspy, trying to take his mind off the fact that he'd...he'd _killed_...

"Just a little bruise," Link said, smiling. "I've had worse. Far worse." His smile faded as Sheik discomfort did not subside. "Was that...the first time you've killed?"

"...yes."

Link nodded sympathetically. "First time's never easy."

"Should have been," Sheik said with a groan, sitting up with Link's help, settling into a somewhat dignified cross-legged position, facing Link. He was a feeling...uncertain. Everything had changed so quickly; he was having trouble keeping up.

He was so tired, too tired to even feel the embarrassment of the top half of his suit missing, which had been rolled down to his hips to expose the wound. Link had done a good job with the bandages, at least. Tight, but not too tight, and moving didn't upset them too much.

"Fucker's been making my life miserable since we were kids," he continued. "Him, Reyla...all of them. Guess they were right, though, if killing one of _them_ makes me pass out...I'm useless..."

"You get used to it, for better or worse," Link said quietly. "And you're not useless. You beat them."

"Not on my own—Reyla would've gutted me. Your horse saved me," Sheik said.

"Maladict does that," Link said, nodding as if this was a normal occurrence. "He's very protective of those he loves. Isn't he the best?" He threw a loving glance at the demon beast in question, who was munching on a pile of apples nearby.

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or terrified," Sheik said, flinching a little when Maladict raised his head to look at him.

"A mix both is good, I think," the Hero said, laughing. "And as for the fight...Reyla—am I saying that right?"

"Who gives a shit? She's dead."

"Well, she might have had you at a disadvantage, but the big guy...Keven?"

"Fuckstick."

"You took him all on your own," Link said, grinning at the nickname. "That was a pretty impressive move, by the way, where you wrapped your legs around his throat? Do all Yiga learn that?"

"No, had to figure that one out on my own," Sheik said. "Everyone's taught the same way—doesn't matter how big and strong or weak and...small you are." He hesitated. "You don't adapt, you don't live."

Link lowered his head. "I'm sorry...it must have been hard."

Sheik chuckled. "Says the man who died a century ago and was recently resurrected to continue the job. You sure you want to swap tales of woe?"

Link shook his head. "I don't really remember much from...before. Barely anything, actually. Bits and pieces, broken images. Faces I should know the names of, but..." He cleared his throat. "Maybe it's a good thing, though. Can't mourn what I lost if I don't remember it."

Sheik watched him carefully. Link put on a brave face, but he saw through the mask. There was hurt there. "You don't really believe that," he said.

"No, but if I don't try, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep going," the Hero said. "I have too much work to do."

_And on one else will lift a finger to help, huh?_ Sheik thought. _Letting you carry the whole burden by yourself._

"But I can't complain," Link said, turning to poke at the fire with a stick, causing a shower of sparks to explode out of it, rising into the air. "We all have things to deal with."

Sheik was reminded of the night of their first meeting. He'd watched Link from this angle back then, too, and his profile was just as striking this time. The line of his jaw, his ear...the slightly wry smile on his lips.

"Some have more than others, though," Sheik said weakly, trying not to think or stare too closely at those lips...or imagine what would have happened if Keven hadn't interrupted them before.

"It's not a competition," Link said, his smile turning a little more genuine. "What will you do now?"

"Huh?"

Link looked at him, eyes sparkling in the firelight. "I'm not an expert on Sheikah or Yiga politics, but I'm pretty sure what we did today doesn't make it easy for you to go back, but...are you? Going back?"

It struck Sheik then. He'd killed other Yiga. There was no coming back from that, even if his position in the clan hadn't been precarious to begin with. He'd be marked for death, and if what Keven said was true, that Kohga had sent Sheik to die anyway...then would he even have been allowed to come back alive?

He'd been a dead man walking since he'd left the caves.

_Fuck...fuck!_

He'd hated them for as long as he could remember. They'd hated him in return. He didn't know what had started it, but at some point, the hate had just continued to grow and burn like a fire inside him. The caves had stopped feeling like home, and every action he'd taken since then had only been in the service of pissing them all off. Killing Link would've been the ultimate insult to them all—he'd have accomplished what none of _them_ could, purely out of spite. But now...he didn't want to kill Link. At all. He just wanted...to not be _there_.

But if he wasn't there, if he didn't go there, didn't belong...then where _did_ he belong?

The tears came unbidden, and the sob only made it all worse. He hadn't cried in years, and _this_ is what set him off?

_Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic!_ _You're worthless, noth—_

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay," Link's arms were around him, the Hero having crawled to his side, pressing his side against Sheik's uninjured one. "Shh...you're safe."

Ashamed, Sheik buried his face in Link's shoulder and let the tears fall. This was pathetic...but...also not...

Link held him the entire time, letting him soak his armour with tears and gods knew whatever else was coming out of Sheik's face. He said nothing the entire time, just quietly holding him in place, grounding him in a way he hadn't felt...since ever. It was the first time in a long time he felt like he was somewhere he belonged, and by the time his sobs subsided and Link slowly let him go, almost hesitantly, Sheik wished he wouldn't.

Link drew back, looking him in the eyes. "Feeling better?"

"Not really," Sheik said, voice gruff and wet. "I don't have anywhere to go."

Link put his hand on Sheik's neck and drew him closer, until their foreheads touched. Sheik's face immediately grew hot.

"Me neither," Link said. "So...why don't we stick together?"

Sheik blinked, immensely torn between the great view he had of Link's mouth and what the Hero had just said.

"Wh-What?" he said, intelligently.

"Think about it," Link said, leaning back a little to look Sheik in the eyes. "It gets lonely out here, and I would appreciate having someone to talk to. I'll be going all over Hyrule and we can find you a new home!" He paused, eyes widening. "Oh, and what I said before...you don't have to...you know, _do_ anything about it. If you don't feel the same way, I mean. If you do, that's great, of course, but don't feel pressured to reciprocate if you don't—"

Now Link was just rambling, and as nice as his voice was to listen to (as Sheik finally admitted to himself), he wasn't so keen on listening to _this_ pile of lies and untruth. He grabbed the Hero by the front of his (eugh) Sheikah armour and dragged him closer, crushing his lips against Link's.

And crushing it was. Their teeth clicked together, their noses mashing against each other uncomfortably. It must have hurt, because Link groaned a little. Sheik drew back, convinced he'd fucked it up.

_Not like I know how to kiss,_ he thought bitterly, breath hitching when he felt Link's hand on his neck again, keeping him in place.

"Not so fast," the Hero said, his voice quiet, eyes darkening. "Like...this..."

Link tilted his head to the side (still unfairly adorable, Sheik's thoughts told him) and brought their lips back together carefully, and this was much better. No teeth, no facial growths masquerading as olfactory organs in the way. Link groaned, and Sheik felt the vibrations through his lips and into his whole body. His hands still gripped Link's suit tightly, afraid of what would happen if he let go, moving his lips desperately against Link's, feeling like electrical shocks were running through him.

And then Link's tongue poked at Sheik's lips, begging for entrance. The sensation made him jump, but when Link tried to stop, Sheik wouldn't let him, shyly meeting Link's tongue with his own.

It was hot, and wet, and the thought of it should disgust him, but Sheik found himself completely enraptured by the sensations, by the sinful feeling of their tongues gliding against each other, of Link's hands roaming his upper body, fingers gently exploring his skin, almost like he was afraid of breaking him.

They were out of breath and panting heavily by the time they separated with a wet _pop_, their faces blazing red.

"I'll...take that as...a yes," Link said, grinning like an idiot.

"You should," Sheik said, aware he was grinning just as stupidly back at him. "If...you'll have me."

Behind them, Maladict snorted loudly and stamped his hoof into the ground.

"Maladict approves," Link said, laughing.

"Are you sure?" Sheik asked, doubt creeping up on him. "I'm...not exactly pleasant to be around."

Link kissed him again, short and sweet. "I think you're delightful. I mean, talking to you is like talking to an adorable brick wall sometimes, but—"

"Hey!"

"But you're the cutest brick wall I've ever seen, so..."

Sheik groaned. "You're shit at flirting!"

"Yeah," Link said, stealing another kiss, and then another. "But you like me anyway, right?"

"Unfortunately," Sheik said, kissing him back.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

* * *

A few days later, a pair of voices could be heard echoing through the Death Mountain range.

"...fucking idea was it to bring a wool sweater to a _volcano_!?"

"You didn't seem to mind it last night. What was it you said again? 'Like a fucking glacier'?"

"Don't swear! Heroes don't swear!"

"Look, I don't want to argue right now. Here, have a banana."

"You think you can bribe me with a—oh, this is a good one. How many do you even have?"

"Enough to last us a week."

"That's good—wait, did you get them _just_ to manipulate me?!"

"Manipulate? No, no, I just know how much you like them. Got a bunch of other fruits, too; figured I'd simmer some of them tonight."

"Pass."

"Sheik, you'll have to try something new at some point."

"We'll see."

"By the way, about the thing we discussed?"

"Yeah?"

"Once we're done up here, we can head down to West Necluda."

"Where even is that...? Oh, there? Okay, I guess. Bit out of our way, though. I thought Tabantha was next? Going to eat up a lot of time travelling there."

"Oh, don't worry about that. The Slate has a _very_ handy feature that'll cut down on how much time it takes."

"Hmph, if you say so. What's even there?"

"Well, I thought we'd drop by Kakariko Village and—"

"The Sheikah?! Fuck no! I'm not going anywhere _near_ those stuck-up dirt farmers! I'd rather die! Which is what'll happen when they see a Yiga show up anyway, I might add!"

"They've taken in defecting Yiga before, you know—"

"Lalala, I can't _hear_ you!"

"Sheik!"

* * *

**The End**


End file.
